The Saving of the Technomages
by Dekri
Summary: This is a technomage story. It covers Federico’s coming of age and my take on what happens to the technomages after the Shadow War. The main connecting story starts in 2269 with a cure having just been found.
1. Prologue

TITLE: The Saving of the Technomages

AUTHOR: Dekri

DISCLAIMER: This Universe belongs to another I'm just playing in it. J M Straczynski, and Warner Brothers own the rights to the universe and most of the characters contained in this story. I've also borrowed, man-handled, twisted beyond recognition etc. the technomages that managed to live through (few in number are they) Jeanne Cavelos' excellent Technomage Trilogy books.

I wrote this for my own amusement and am only posting this because it seems likely now that very little new Babylon 5 material will ever makes its way to us. I needed closure on the Crusade arc and what the ultimate fate of the technomages might be, so I decided to write it. I pay homage to Ian Banks' Culture Universe (a current favorite of mine). I am disclaiming any and all intent to profit by this story. I intend no offense nor do I wish to decrease another's intellectual property value.

RATING: T for now but later expect grown up language and implied sexual naughtiness.

SUMMARY: This is a technomage story. It covers Federico's coming of age and my take on what happens to the technomages after the Shadow War. The main connecting story starts in 2269 with a cure having just been found.

Spoiler Warning: Just about everything in Crusade and the Passing of the Technomages Trilogy. You've been warned!

Author's notes: Large parts of this story came to me after I read the Technomage trilogy. I loved their world and the scheming layered characters imbedded in science and technology. In particular, I liked the character of Federico quite a bit and by extension I learned to like his politico master, Herazade. I ended up making up a few new technomages because those Jeanne Cavelos introduced she then tended to kill off, even when it wasn't necessary.

Figuring out how to end this story began after I watched Lost Tales and I asked myself how the hell would Galen know what is going to happen in 30 years? JMS's vague usenet answer ,"Let us remember that time travel is also a form of technology," sent my mind a wondering far a field. It pretty much spiraled out of control from that point. I've incorporated a lot of ideas I've been kicking around in my mind for years about the B5 universe and the Vorlons. It is my hope that at least one other person finds this enjoyable. It's a long convoluted and meandering tale, but I promise an end has been thought up if not written.

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**Prologue**

**November, 2255 - Vorlon Homeworld**

A lone Vorlon is suspended in a cavernous dark chamber. It is surrounded by trillions upon trillions of tiny spheres locked into a giant lattice that spreads seemingly into infinity in all directions. Its body shimmers the displeased shades of yellow. It begins again and chooses one sphere, then connects drawing a line to another, then to another. Its pace quickens rapidly through hundreds then thousands and finally millions of spheres.

Suddenly, the piercing light of another but far smaller Vorlon illuminates the chamber. It approaches rapidly and begins to circle about the first. Its tentacles of light whip about excitedly. A complex series of musical chimes can be heard echoing loudly in the chamber.

\\The two faiths come seeking coadunation.

The small Vorlon suddenly becomes very still and begins to examine the path of connected spheres. It intones again but this time softly.

\\Is this the path across?

\\Yes but prefect understanding alludes. Who communes for the faiths?

The small Vorlon flashes the purple of amusement.

\\Are there ever any others? Righteous Fury and Oblique Truth. They bring their usual discord.

They leave the dark chamber and descend down a long light filled shaft. At the bottom they are immediately joined

by a third Vorlon that towers over either of them. They glide into an attached chamber and up onto a small raised dais and align themselves by size. Two Vorlons wait motionless at the base of the dais. The Vorlon bodies on the dais shimmer the dark-blue for warm greeting. Then all three go neutral white.

\\The Unifex welcome communion.

The left Vorlon immediately turns the orange-red of vengeful anger.

\\For a season the Vorlon have felt the new cycle dawn. The first Shadows stir out of their sleep. The Host is certain that the Shadows will reclaim the fabulists before their chaos erupts. The simplest solution is to eliminate the remnant at their current gathering. Balance and order demand it. The Host prepares the orbital bombardment.

Only the slightest trace of the annoyed yellow passes across the right Vorlon.

\\The fabulists have moved toward order since the humans have held sway over them. They will reject the Shadows. Alternative solution is continued reserved watchfulness.

The left Vorlon turns dark red.

\\They were a wave of death upon the Host in the last cycle! They hunted us relentlessly for their Masters!

\\In the last cycle they seemed as numerous as stars. They are in waning at 506.

\\One is too many. The Shadows will corrupt the strongest to multiply their chaos.

The smallest Vorlon on the dais begins to flash shades of green-purple for sorrowful amusement. While the right Vorlon begins to turn more yellow as it intones in response.

\\Many would serve order with obedience if we but manifest to them.

\\Never! They all carry the seed of the Shadows and can only sow darkness and chaos.

\\This dark seed has grown toward light. The humans have brought beauty, order and obedience to the fabulists.

\\They are the Abaddon!

The Vorlons on the dais turn black and chime a single hard note in unison. In response the two Vorlons at the base turn white. Silence prevails for many seconds.

\\The Naraneks will bear witness to the judgment of the Unifex. Kosh will go forth for the watch and the Host will come back to peace.

Kosh intones in neutral white.

\\They are the children of the Abaddon. The Truth is intrigued. The Muses seek possibilities.

It glides smoothly out while the left Vorlon remains unmoving, ripples of every shade of red run through its form.

The middle Vorlon on the dais chimes.

\\Now comes the true purpose.

\\My faith is steadfast with the spheres. Your judgment leads the Host to seek sanction for proper preparedness.

\\We will continue our communion.

\\The Host will draw a sample of the fabulists, to examine in exacting detail and to prepare the new Furies. We will acquire the holy number starting with the one that worships us. Will you sanction?

\\We must consider the spheres.

The three Vorlons on the dais isolate themselves inside a perfect hollow diamond sphere that coalesces about them quickly.

The largest Vorlon begins.

\\We can not give sanction. This will bring contamination, cruelty and will place Righteous Fury in ascension.

The smallest continues immediately.

\\Perfect agreement. Fe Fi Fo Fum I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead … the Furies … will grind his bones to make my bread.

The final Vorlon intones.

\\We will sanction all and ask more of the Host.

The two other Vorlons flash the bright pink of surprise. The largest Vorlon chimes.

\\Then you have finally seen a path across the spheres. Show us that we may follow.

As an answer a complex matrix envelopes them. They all study it silently in neutral white for a very long time. Eventually the enormous Vorlon turns the sorrowful green as it chimes.

\\Once again the path reeks of death. The humans stand at the center but too many of their spheres are unresolved. The end is impenetrable. Understanding alludes.

The small Vorlon turns purple-green for amused sadness and begins to sway rhythmically.

\\Partial agreement. The cycles come to an end with the Minbari once again in ascension. Can it mean something other then order is finally imposed? We must obey without understanding. Perhaps the spheres will reveal themselves further as we come upon the immutable points and the nexuses reveal themselves. I will follow the path of Atoning.

\\Are we one?

Chimes the middle Vorlon towards the largest Vorlon, who begins flashing the yellow and orange of perturbation as it oscillates in silence. Finally it responds.

\\One path is no choice, but I will follow the path of Atoning.

The diamond sphere dissolves into nothingness instantly. The three Vorlons descend and surround the lone Vorlon.

\\The Unifex sanction all that is to be done to the fabulist sample. The spheres sing of further preparations to commence this season. The Host will begin the birthing of all battleships. In one season, you will be called to guide the Minbari to glory. In two seasons, the Oblique Truth will be called to guide the lesser ones against the coming darkness in the fifth human citadel.

All the Vorlons turn the purple-blue of pleasurable agreement and intone together.

\\Obedience to the spheres is our greatest joy.

The center Vorlon begins to glide toward the exit when it turns back with hesitation.

\\Will the Glorious Sun lead the hunt for the leviathan?

The largest Vorlon freezes and turns the pink-gray for surprised distrust.

\\That is the Righteous Fury's place this season.

\\The greatest Fury at the head will inspire my Host.

The Vorlons of the Unifex chime in unison.

\\All will be as you direct Ulkesh.


	2. The Specter at the Banquet

**Chapter ****1 The Specter at the Banquet**

**Recreation Room 1- Aboard the Excalibur December 23, 2269**

Dancing, music, seemingly endless bottles of alcohol, trays of food, and lewd behavior all dominate the largest recreation room aboard the Excalibur. Except at one corner table, seemingly unoccupied sits Galen, like a shadowy ghost, cloaked in a shield that renders him invisible to all present. A tray of food sits untouched in the middle of the table. All around the sounds of the Excalibur crew celebrating echo off the walls.

Galen sits musing to himself, 'Just like a convocation, well except for the food, really how can they eat this stuff. No wonder Matthew is always in such a foul mood.'

Galen focuses on Dureena. She's been happily dancing with Max for some time. Regret and anger well up in him for a second. Then he sighs and silently says, 'The road not taken. I wish for once I could just relax and join them. At least I can take some satisfaction now that Earth has its cure but I must make plans for how I will help Matthew afterwards on Mars. Then there is that black hole of despair and misery. I must find more time to go to Centauri Prime. At least Gwynn is capable. Finian on the other hand...'

His musing is interrupted by his tech, which conveys a message from his ship.

/Perimeter warning: Ship entering long range sensor limit. Class: Technomage

/Ship commence rune scan.

/Rune scan complete: Decrypting ... (An image of a geared gyroscope with wings appears in Galen's mind.)

'Well this should be diverting at least.'

**Bridge of the Excalibur 11 Minutes Later**

"What's the ETA of our escorts, Lt.?" asks Captain Gideon.

"The first White Star will intercept us in 12 hours 46 minutes," replies Lt. Matheson.

"And to Earth?"

"Now 3 days 2 hours 14 minutes," replies Lt. Matheson.

"I'm heading to my quarters to shower and then I'll grab something to eat from the party. I'll be back in 20 minutes. Lt. Matheson you have the bridge. Contact me if anything changes," says Captain Gideon beginning to stand up.

"Yes sir … Captain, we are picking up a ship on long range scanners."

"Now what! Can we get an ID on it Lt.?" replies Gideon sitting back down.

"It's coming in now sir ... it's a technomage ship and it's requesting permission to land," says Matheson with some surprise.

"Granted. Contact Galen if you can find him, tell him he has a guest and to meet me in the docking bay," says Gideon leaving the bridge.

As Gideon climbs into the transport tube Galen greets him in a flat distracted voice, "Matthew."

As always, Gideon is slightly startled but responds smoothly, "I assume you know who is coming. Is it Alwyn?"

"No," replies Galen with unfocused eyes.

"Another technomage? Is there going to be trouble?"

"I don't believe so."

"Good. Are you still on the outs with your … (Gideon waves an impatient hand) Order?"

Galen looks at Gideon for the first time and lets out a heavy breath, "Who can tell anymore?"

Gideon leans forward with his hands gripping his knees firmly and snaps, "Galen … we're heading back to Earth with the cure and the last thing I need is two technomages fighting it out on my ship!"

Galen smirks as he responds, "Have no fear, anything of that sort would be over quickly and I promise not to leave a mess."

Gideon frowns worriedly.

"I assume you are still planning on staying with us till we get the samples to Dr. Franklin."

"Matthew, I disobeyed my Order over their refusal to directly intercede in this affair. I'm hardly going to listen to them now."

"Good because the Drakh know about us and they have over three days to stop us. Of course having another technomage around might be useful. Who is it?"

"It is ... I suppose you would say a friend of mine. For once I also don't know what this will be about."

Gideon responds dryly, "You with a friend? Wonders never cease."

Galen looks away with an unreadable expression.

They step out of the transport tube silently, enter the docking bay together and arrive in time to watch a second technomage ship neatly settle next to the first one. Its right wing has a rotating gyroscope on it with outstretched metal wings to either side. Each ring is made up of small interlocking red colored gears moving in unison. The wings suddenly flap and then the entire image vanishes.

After standing there for well over a minute Gideon asks, "Are we suppose to go up and knock?"

With a concerned look on his face, Galen says, "I would not recommend you do that. Consider this all part of the mystery."

The hatch opens and a ramp neatly slides down. Slowly and deliberately a man walks down the ramp with a hint of a limp. Gideon is suddenly grateful for having mastered hiding his facial expressions through poker, because he's actually taken aback by this technomage's appearance. He has the same knowing smirk Galen usually wears but the similarity ends there. First, he has hair, long thick black carelessly tied hair, and a big bushy beard. Completely unlike Galen's usual appearance, he is wearing an elaborate yellow velvet jacket, a white shirt with ruffles and red pants with clearly visible golden embroidery. His appearance is impressive except that his clothes look like they have seen better days. His jacket is clearly worn at the elbows and his pants have slight scorch marks on it. Oddly he is only wearing one glove on his left hand. A bright yellow silk scarf is wound snuggly about his neck and finished with an elaborate knot. Gideon looks at Galen and sees a frown etched into his smooth features.

The technomage silently walks up close and stops opposite Galen.

Smiling broadly and swatting Galen's shoulder, he says enthusiastically, "It's good to see you Galen. Boy you guys are far from home. I've never been this close to the rim before. It feels pretty lonely out here."

Galen quickly reaches up and pulls the scarf away from his neck revealing deep red burns.

The mage keeps grinning but grabs Galen's hand pulling it away slowly.

"Hey, leave my cravat alone! It took me like two minutes to figure out how to tie that knot."

Galen angrily shouts, "Who did this to you Federico?!"


	3. Technomage Politics 101

Author's Note: If you are like me, and I assume you are not, then you LOVE politics. No need to thank me. You're all welcome.

Many thanks to Seras Serenity for agreeing to be my beta-reader. She is a treasure beyond measure for this tiny dusty corner of the Babylon 5 universe.

* * *

**Chapter 2 -Technomage Politics 101**

**The Chamber of the Circle, Technomage hiding place - Seven Years Earlier - November 1, 2261**

Federico casually walks into the chamber smiling.

He is immediately addressed by Miostro, "Nice of you to finally join us."

The four other members of the Circle are already seated about a silver meeting table. Herazade sits in the middle, leaning slightly to her left, listening to Celaene whisper in her ear. To her far right sits Miostro, then Tzakizak. Federico slowly walks over to take his place to Herazade's far left.

Herazade leans away from Celaene and says authoritatively, "Let us begin by discussing Vergil's tech generation and feasibility report. Then we must vote on whether we will approve his … frankly ghoulish request."

Federico interrupts Herazade, "Before we get into all that, I'd like to bring a motion before the Circle for immediate debate."

There are groans and grunts from everyone about the table, except for Herazade, who merely stares at him.

Tzakizak angrily begins with a shout, "Oh give it up Fed! We've voted on the issue of leaving the hiding place 18 times thanks to you and every vote has been exactly the same. I agree with you while the others here don't. I accepted the Circle's decision. You must as well. (He points at Herazade.) Why haven't you told your boy here to shut up and move on already?!"

Herazade brings her hands together in front of her and sighs heavily, looking down upon the table.

"It is his right to bring any issue before the Circle for debate, no matter how tedious he is about it. Does anyone wish to to amend or alter their position?"

Herazade looks at Miostro expectantly.

He waves his hand dismissively and says with a sonorous voice, "I have nothing new to add."

Celaene looks hesitant but finally says, "I still agree with your reasoning Herazade."

Herazade turns to Tzakizak.

"I'm the only one here with an chrysalis apprentice who was supposed to have been initiated this year. SO YES, I'm STILL in favor of ordering every mage capable of walking to go and scour the galaxy for more of our tech. We must hound the Drakh. The Shadows used them to provide us with tech and they stripped Z'ha'Dum. If any survived Sheridan's nuclear themed soiree, they will have it. I propose one from this table must go and…"

Herazade cuts him off, "You are losing focus on the current debate, but you bring up a good point about the chrysalis stage mages. We will discuss them at our next meeting. Now Fed, shall we forgo your standard speech and just take a vote then move on?"

"No, I have a new speech."

Suddenly looking grave, Fed takes a deep breath and stands.

He starts in a slow but certain voice, "The Shadow War ended nearly a year ago. Why are the technomages still in hiding?! We tell the Order it is because of the Drakh, who are a threat to us. But that is a lie. The TRUTH is your selfish fears keep us here! (He points at Miostro challengingly.) You are afraid of loosing the adulation of your monastic cult. You live for their adoration. (Fed points at Celaene.) You are afraid of making your own decisions so you hide in Herazade's shadow. (Fed points to Tzakizak.) You are afraid you're the last of your line. All you want is to go on the hunt and damn the consequences. Every time you open your mouth you scare the crap out of the others and they are even less likely to let anyone leave. (Fed points to Herazade.) You … (his voice and expression both soften) are afraid of everything spiraling out of your control again so you've turned this asteroid into your virtual Place of Power. We can _**NOT**_ let fear govern this decision! So I ask AGAIN that the Circle reconsider and break the wards on the hiding place. Let the Order return to its rightful place in the galaxy. We should be helping the InterStellar Alliance clean up the enormous mess left behind by the Shadows and Vorlons- not sequestered away in this … rock."

He waves his right arm in anger and a cold wind blows across the table momentarily. Fed sits staring downward. Everyone about the table seems momentarily stunned into silence.

After several seconds, Tzakizak begins a slow deliberate clap and says mockingly, "OH WELL SAID … 'Galen.' Does he even know he has a willing disciple in you? My guess is no since he seemed reluctant to give you the time of day and now he's left us without so much as a 'by your leave.' (His suspicious gaze shifts momentarily to Herazade.) You know Fed, you're ADORABLE when you give us glimpses of your idealistic side. I just figured out how you get all those women to sleep with you. Hell, I can barely resist you right now."

Herazade slams a hand on the table, startling everyone with the sound of a thunderclap that echoes once about the room. "I will not tolerate petty insults in this chamber, Tzakizak, you have been warned. … Our fears, such as they are, do not matter as long as we stay united and focused on our work. (She stands and looks down at Fed with cold, calculated grace.) Federico you are hereby censured for disrupting our meetings and worse, for wasting our time! If you bring this issue up again you will be dismissed from the Circle summarily and replaced. Am I understood?!"

After a few seconds Fed bows his head yes.

"We will take a one hour break then resume. (Everyone but Herazade rises.) No, I would speak with you Federico."

Tzakizak begins laughing harshly as he exits the room.

Fed sits back down, running a hand through his unrestrained hair.

A slow smile spreads across his face as he says, "You know this is all your fault. You're the one who insisted I run for the Circle."

Herazade allows herself half a smile.

"That thought has occurred to me, and so has the thought that I should have disciplined you more as a child. Do you realize I'm serious about booting you from the Circle?"

"Sure, I recognize the determined look in your eyes. Don't worry, I'll back down."

She lets out a relieved breath and says, "Good, I would loathe having to do it."

"Tzak's right. Why didn't you tell me to shut up months ago?"

"Frankly, you desperately needed the practice in formal discourse. You've improved considerably. I especially liked your little flourish at the end. (Herazade sighs and brings her hands together in front of her face, her slight smile morphing into a severe frown.) … But you admire Galen far too much."

"That's because he's the best of us Hera. Not just the most powerful, forgive me, but I think the wisest. Remember, all those times you lectured me about the greatest precept in the Code was the last- 'Good.' He's the only one doing any."

Indignation flashes through her eyes for an instant, then is immediately replaced by resignation.

"It's a shame he ignores the first, 'Solidarity.' I see I need to put my distrust of him in simple terms you can understand. … He is arrogant, unyielding even when he can and should, more self-righteous than Elric ever managed, and the most divisive figure in the Order. Then there are his various little psychoses: He is above influence because isolates himself from everyone, obsessive compulsive, has suicidal tendencies, and he harms himself to maintain control. Last of all, the one that concerns me the most because it potentially affects the entire Order, he can not be trusted to obey the Circle. If you must have a 'hero,' you would do better to admire the great figures of our history instead of him."

Defensively Fed replies, "That's not fair and you know it! I've watched him closely, might I remind you at your request, and okay, I'll admit he's the Emir of Ennui, but he hasn't had any issue, psychotic or otherwise, since he returned from helping Sheridan on Z'ha'dum. He's been the ideal technomage."

"For his sake, I hope you are correct but his explanation as to why … this supposed becoming 'one with his tech.' What does that even mean? He might as well say he sprinkled fairy dust on himself. He's had a year to teach us but no one has been able to duplicate it or even understand what he's talking about. It's NOT science until someone else has reproduced his claim."

"I don't get it either, but I believe in Galen. (Herazade rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair letting out an annoyed grunt.) He said Blaylock managed to become one with his tech but he couldn't confirm it because …"

Herazade interrupts him, "Because Blaylock immediately died. THAT is more cause for concern than celebration!"

Dejected, Fed reluctantly agrees, "You're probably right. Anyway it doesn't matter. Everyone's given up trying, even Miostro and the rest of what's left of Blaylock's lot. (Fed pauses gathering his thoughts.) … The truth is we're all arrogant and Galen's … style doesn't matter because he always does what's right. Officially, you've disapproved of Galen loudly enough for all to hear, but I've always wondered why you never really punished him, apart from a tongue-lashing. Hell, you punished me worse when I mouthed off at Miostro during our first full Circle meeting. I still can't get the smell of sewage out of my boots. Not to mention, in one breath you called him a traitor who deserves flaying then in the next you entrusted him with the most vital job we have, monitoring our probe network. And now when he somehow slips off quietly into the night, you don't mention it or declare him rogue. Nothing. It doesn't add up."

She dismisses his comment with a wave of her hand.

"There is no point to continuing this discussion. It is clear we will never agree."

"I'm coming to a point. You want to know what I think? You don't want to draw attention to how flagrantly he flaunts our authority and you just might have secretly approved of his leaving."

Herazade's eyes narrow on Fed but she says nothing.

Fed adopts a self-satisfied smile and continues, "I get it. This way you get plausible deniability, in case he goes all 'Destructo' again. See, I know I'm right because if you really disapproved you would've cut off his access immediately but I checked and you haven't. So tell me what happened with Galen. (Herazade looks away contemplatively but stays silent.) … Oh come on! … You once said you trust me implicitly, so prove it. Don't hide things. That led to Kell's downfall, or at least that's what you told me. We're here to share the burdens of leadership."

Her attention locks onto Fed with a look of surprise. She studies him for a few seconds.

Satisfied, she says, "Perhaps you are ready to hear. … Galen came to my office two nights ago. He was 'concerned' about the Drakh. They appear to have started settling on Centauri Prime and have been raiding some of the ISA trade routes. He believes they are gathering supplies to build a fleet of warships. He said I should release him to investigate further and to stop them if he can. I said no. It's too early to move on the Drakh.

You were correct about the Drakh, Fed. They are not a threat to us, that is until we involve ourselves in opposing their schemes. We are few, our numbers shrinking, they are many and growing. Everyone is well hidden. The only sane and safe course is to wait patiently and watch for the day the Drakh leadership reveal themselves. ONLY then will we strike with one sure blow eradicating them decisively. In the mean time, the threat of the Drakh, a common enemy, will further unify the ISA."

Fed shakes his head no and interrupts her saying, "I see your point, but no. What about the people they're killing right now? The Drakh might do huge harm if they're allowed to become a power. If we nip them in the bud as they grow…"

She holds up a silencing hand, "Galen already made your argument and more eloquently. We can debate them another time. … Now getting back to what happened with Galen. He said he was leaving regardless of my opinions. That he only came to tell me out of politeness and if I wanted to stop him, I'd have to make good on my threat to flay him. He ended by saying, and I'll quote him here because I think you will enjoy it… 'I'll give you a head start. I'll go sit in my quarters quietly for the next two hours. I have no idea how many technomages it will take to subdue me but I would bring at least two dozen if I were you. I await your convenience. Have at me.' Then he got that amused, self-righteous look he's perfected recently. You can image how I reacted."

Fed covers his face with his hands and shakes his head side to side, muffling his laughs.

He finally looks up smiling, "So he called your bluff… did you two have it out?"

"No. Once I stopped feeling like I wanted to electrocute him and instead just needed to smack him, I explained that if I wanted him dead I would never come at him like some sort of … horde of Huns. Then I took him to his quarters, he packed, and I let him out the east airlock. Just before he left he revealed the true reason why he had come to me. He asked if I would allow him to keep his Circle level network access. I told him he can have unfettered use to our data and probe networks, IF he does not compromise the hiding place. In return I asked him to not arbitrarily destroy any more of our tech that he encounters, but to inform us of it. He got a disgusted look and said, 'I will let you know if I find anything useful.' Now you know all. He is essentially a free agent."

"I'm glad you let him go… Wait how did you let him out without a majority authorization code?"

Herazade shrugs deliberately and quips, "I forget."

Understanding quickly fills Fed's expression.

"Oh man, there must be back-doors into the locking wards and servers. I'm going to have to go looking now."

She approvingly nods, "Seeking knowledge is an integral part of the technomage Code."

"But I still don't get it. Why didn't you tell the rest of us?"

Exasperated, Herazade impatiently chides, "Haven't you been listening to me?! He's divisive, uncompromising and disobedient. Our new Circle is too young. We are still weak and easily divided. Deciding Galen's fate would only lead to another maelstrom among us. Oh sure you would have been tickled pink, however, (she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly) ... Tzakizak would have wanted him flayed but he would have settled for siding with Miostro and Celaene, who would both insist he be stripped of his privileges; his ship, his staff, his access to information and cast out of the Order as unfit. I was not sure if I could persuade Celaene otherwise. Galen would still be out there, (she points at the ceiling) but his effectiveness would suffer greatly for it. They think I've sent him out as some sort of personal secret agent and that I've overstepped my authority, but they will not challenge me in this because they are relieved to be rid of him. Galen does not have my approval but I will protect him."

Fed looks at her curiously.

"That makes no sense to me. Why?"

She stares off into the distance past Fed and says, "Many small reasons that add up to a feeling that this is the best course. He did help save us from the Shadows. To honor Elric's memory. Because I also hate to see what the Drakh are doing. Because Galen was clearly starting to get frustrated here with us. Because he's so intelligent and resourceful that he might stumble across something 'useful.' (She focuses on Fed.) Should I go on?"

"No I think I understand. … What are you going to do if and when he comes back to us?"

"I'm not sure. I'll start with pretending he was never gone and hope the others play along. Now since you've inserted yourself into this, I'm making Galen your problem," she asserts pointing a finger at Fed.

"I'm not sure I like the sound of this," jokes Fed.

"I don't want to talk to him unless I have to. He infuriates me too easily. You're his contact. Create a daemon to watch all his network activities and let us know if he does anything … interesting."

Fed stares off beyond Herazade with unfocused eyes for a second before saying, "Done and will do."

"Now, I think I deserve a guess about the fears that motivate your vote to leave the hiding place."

"Shoot." Fed flashes a grin and raises his hands in an inviting gesture.

"You are afraid that you'll never see a real sky again, that you'll spend your life trapped here on this rock and you'll never get to prove to yourself that good can come from the powers you've been given."

Fed's smile gets larger. "You got it all, except I usually call this (he lifts his arms in a grand all encompassing gesture) 'el lugar de la mierda' instead of a rock."

"Huh. Aldous no doubt would have been proud, but I was hoping you would go with something more … literary. Be patient, your time will come. Meanwhile the Order needs every mage to pour their energy and creativity into solving the most pressing problem we've ever faced. I want you to review these. (Fed's tech receives dozens of files from Herazade.) I want your comments before I submit them to the rest of the Circle."

He begins to study the files and finds elaborate schematics.

While continuing to examine the designs, he asks, "Are you turning our … rock into a research facility?"

"Yes, essentially."

"What are all these little spec files at the end?"

"Creating those files was the main reason I was chosen to join the Circle. Aldous headed the tech research during his tenure on the Circle and he convinced Kell to open up a … parallel line of research, which would try to reproduce the capabilities of the tech using … conventional technologies. The reasoning being over the course of the next 1000 years we might be able to replace the tech with our own pieces slowly and quietly, until finally we could rid ourselves of our dependence on the Shadows. When he died, I stepped into his duties and those files are the first presentable results. They are what we will aspire to initially. I had hoped Vergil's team would come up with something that would make this unnecessary but that seems unlikely now. We will keep supporting Vergil's inquiries but if the Circle agrees, which I'll make sure they do, the Order will begin work on several new wearable tech projects. It will all be done in the open for all to help."

"This is a huge undertaking. We don't even have all these materials… are these jump gate components?"

"Yes."

"How long do you think the new projects will take?"

"If we can overcome the technological hurdles, 15 to 20 years."

"Sweet Zombie Jesus! I'm never getting out of here."

"You'll feel better after you've eaten. Go get us some food. We'll discuss everything in more detail over dinner."

Fed stands and pauses asking, "Was I at least right?"

"About the others? Yes. About me? You are right that our hiding place is my … figurative Place of Power. I designed all of it and built the core systems myself, so yes I wield the most power here but I do not fear loosing control over the Order. Fed, I want you above all to understand this. The one thing that kept the Order united, the thing that connects all of us throughout our history was not our traditions, the Circle or even the Code, but our tech and the handing it down from one generation to the next. That is the true reason we all came together every 3 years at our convocations. Right now we have nothing to bequeath but some well tended databases. You spoke of doing good. Yes, the Order could do good right now, but only until your generation dies out, another fifty years perhaps. Instead, shouldn't we provide the next 100 generations of technomages with the means to do good? That will not be possible if the Circle breaks the wards. Everyone will scatter and it will guarantee our … (She sketches a complex burning rune in the air between them.)"

"I don't recognize that rune."

"This is the only fear that keeps me awake at night. It is the ancient rune for extinction and I will _**NOT**_ allow that to happen."

Federico stares at her unsure of what to say.

He seems to snap out of it and says seriously, "Okay I'm with you, but what if we can't research our way out of this hole and what we need is out there?"

He points to the ceiling while plastering a challenging smile on his face.

She nonchalantly says, "Just between the two of us, soon I will be ready to agree to Tzak's fondest wish, well a limited version anyway."

Fed's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Wow, now that's what I call cognitive dissonance. If you agree with him, why the hell have you been tripping him at every turn?"

She doesn't answer his question but instead commands, "Start working on a list of technomages who are loyal to the Circle and you would personally trust to be our eyes, ears and hands. (Fed's eyes light up.) And DO NOT put yourself at the top of the list."

Pouting Fed asks, "Where are they going?"

"Everywhere or … anywhere … but we will start with the Centauri and Mars."

--

**Excalibur Docking Bay - December 23, 2269**

Galen starts speaking rapidly, "Have the others been harmed? What has happened?!"

Federico seems to react with surprise.

He holds up his hand and says, "Hey, calm down. The burns are just a ... souvenir from my encounter with a Drakh engine exhaust port. I must speak with you."

He looks pointedly at Gideon. "... Privately."

Unruffled, Gideon commands, "Look, Federico was it, if there are Drakh near here I need to know their strength and where they are. Also you should let our doctor take a look at you first before your little reunion."

Galen gently takes Federico by the arm and begins to leave the docking bay.

"Matthew is right, be good and come along to their Medlab. I will go intercept the Drakh. Uplink everything to my ship."

"Please call me Fed, Captain. Before you run off, Galen, I've dealt with the Drakh while I was aboard their fleet master ship. I reprogrammed their navigation and tracking systems. They won't be bothering you unless one of them manually checks the hyperspace beacon and notices it doesn't match their computers, but the Drakh aren't renowned for their individual initiative. I'm tracking all the ships just in case. So they are irrelevant. I'm here about another matter."

They climb into the transport tube. Galen's tech connects to Fed's and begins receiving tracking data. Amused, Galen opens a channel to relay the information to the Excalibur computer and sends a response to Fed.

/A direct course for Minbar. They're in for a surprise. /

/I should have thought to warn the Minbari defense forces. Oh well, I'm sure it will all work out. /

/What are you doing out here Fed? Are you here on the Circle's business? /

/Here specifically, no. I am just collecting supplies for a mission./

/What could you possibly need from a Drakh ship? /

/Nothing. I was coming here when by a total stroke of luck I noticed them following you. They obviously meant to attack. I guessed that would be an unfortunate distraction for you, so I snuck aboard and hacked their system, a total piece of cake. I took a real good look at their software and control systems. It was actually fun poking around until I was slipping back out the exhaust port and they kicked their engines into overdrive. I was a bit slow reinforcing my shield. Even though I shot out of there like a bat out of hell, some plasma leaked through. Ruined my favorite jacket but I shouldn't complain, I got away alive. /

/I'm glad to hear it. Now then what do you want with me Fed? /

/You're the last item on my supply list. /


	4. Galen's Order

**Chapter 3- Galen's Order**

**Transport Tube - Aboard the Excalibur December 23, 2269**

Gideon watches the two technomages silently staring at each other with shifting expressions.

Finally losing his patience he asks, "Hello? Do you two even remember I'm still here? I hate to interrupt but I'm going back to the bridge. Galen, as soon as Fed here coughs up some real information, forward it to me there. I need to contact EarthForce command."

"Already done Matthew. We will be in Medlab should you need me to come up and hold your hand."

With a grunt Gideon leaves.

"He's more ... rough around the edges than I expected," remarks Fed.

"He has his charms and we are here as well," replies Galen, standing and indicating to the door.

"Aren't you curious about why I'm here? You know Galen, I expected more intellectual curiosity out of you."

"Actually, I'm immensely curious, but my tech can sense your pain, it's leaking into our link, and frankly I'd rather spare myself. You hid it well from the Captain though."

Dr Sarah Chambers greets them as they walk in into Medlab.

"The Captain told me to expect you two. (Indicating to Fed.) Follow me and you'll have to remove at least your outer clothes."

Galen asks, "Doctor, may I speak with you?"

"All right, I need a couple of things from my office anyway."

As soon as they enter her office she turns and faces Galen angrily.

"Look, if you're about lecture me about not looking too closely at his ... whatever it is you guys put inside of yourselves, save your breath. I'll decide what's best for my patient."

"Actually I was about to ask you to conduct a most thorough exam of him and let me examine your findings. He tried to hide the extent of his injuries from me and I want to know why."

"As if I could hide the information from you, but since you condescended to ask, I'll let you know when I'm done."

With a drape in one hand and several vials in the other, Dr. Chambers and Galen walk back to find Fed standing

in the middle of the room facing them, completely naked. He clearly has burns on his neck, shoulders and a narrow band from the top of his chest to his abdomen. On his left pectoral muscle, in small runic script, is the phrase, 'One of Us.' With his arms casually at his sides, it takes Galen a moment to notice Feds left hand is missing.

In discomfort, Galen says, "Really Fed, you could have left on your underwear."

With a bemused expression Fed sends a response.

/But then how will the good doctor conduct her 'most thorough exam.'/

/Eavesdropping? How unbecoming./

/Not for me. I have nothing to hide Galen. These injuries aren't important./

/We will see. Now tell me everything./

Doctor Chambers hands Fed the drape and says, "Well at least you're not a shy one. Lie down and cover yourself up with this."

"Too bad, I was enjoying the air," says Fed reclining onto a Medlab bed.

"Do you need a painkiller?" asks Dr. Chambers.

"Sure but only for Galen's sake," replies Fed.

His eyes twinkle with humor at the doctor, who looks puzzled for a second then dismissive. She quickly injects something into him and begins to slowly apply small patches to the burns on his abdomen.

/Well Fed, I'm waiting./

/Hold on I need to get a grip before I embarrass myself./

/I can leave you two alone if that is the reason you came here./

/No. It's just that she has a deft touch. Give me a second to figure out where to begin./

Galen crosses his arms across his chest and taps his foot with impatience until he receives another message from Fed.

/I think I need to start way back, to catch you up. You know I have always agreed with you about a lot of things, but I've always been loyal to the Circle or perhaps just too comfortable. After I was elected a member of the Circle, I debated with them at every meeting that you were correct and our time in the hiding place is over. I actually became argumentative with the rest of them for a while./

/I have a hard time picturing that./

/I know. What can I say? The power went to my head./

/Wait let me guess their response. I love this game. They humbly admitted their mistake and thanked you for you're efforts./

/Oh yes, exactly, except for the part where I was censured, and Herazade threatened to boot me from the Circle if I kept at it./

/That sounds like the Circle I know and love./

Fed breaks into chuckles while Galen's serious expression remains. Dr. Chambers stops her work and looks at them both to say, "The least you can do is let me in on the joke."

"It wasn't actually funny," replies Galen.

Fed sends a message.

/It turns out being our glorious leaders old apprentice has many benefits. Herazade never could stay upset with me. Instead I did what I do best, I began to build a network of like-minded supporters. I knew quite a few who already believed as I, and I began to feel out all our fellow mages. It took me years but I know where everyone stands about everything important./

/I'm afraid to ask, but how did you find sympathizers without the rest of Circle immediately finding you out./

/Ahh yes. I threw special parties in my quarters. It turns out nothing loosens a mage's tongue faster than good food, half a dozen drinks, and entertainment. Movies, poker, and well, Aky used to call it 'fun without pants.'/

Galen arches an eyebrow.

/That could not have worked, not everyone shares your enthusiasm for fun./

/I assume you mean Miostro's monastic lot. I sicced Gwynn on them before she was sent out. She's pretty thorough and unremitting when she decides to apply herself. Besides, she lives for being sneaky. Most of them just want to keep hiding with their fingers in their ears while chanting loudly. Gwynn and Kane were the first I really trusted. There's 38 of us. Kane jokingly started referring to us as 'Galen's Order' and the name has stuck./

Galen's face hardens instantly.

/STOP. Let me see if I understand. You've created some sort of technomage subgroup, in my name, selected by you, populated with drunkards and libertines./

Galen looks at the ceiling mumbling crossedly, "The universe must be playing a joke on me."

Fed's expression sours at that.

/I have always admired your frankness Galen, so I'll just pretend what you said doesn't bother me. Our goals are ill defined, but for lack of a better phrase, we look up to you. Most of us just wish to rejoin the universe, to use our powers for good and to not let the technomage line pass quietly into the night./

/Perhaps we should just move on. Why have I not heard of any of this before now?/

/I doubted you'd want to hear about it. Then I decided to tell you when you returned to us with Kane's body but you were only with us for a short while. You kept busy or made it clear you wanted to be left alone. You're not an easy person to talk to. In fact, I'd say impossible. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to tell you? I even asked Gwynn for help but she flat out refused to try, and, trust me, intimidating her is a true accomplishment. There was a reason why I kept inviting you to my quarters for a chat./

/As far as I know there was only one reason you ever invited anyone to your quarters to meet privately./

Galen begins to look uncomfortable. Fed just looks confused, but then realization and merriment alight his eyes. Fed begins snickering out loud.

"Ooohhh. Ahehehe."

Fed switches to message form.

/I suppose I should have said office instead. That's what I meant. You thought what? That I was trying to seduce you?/

Fed laughs harder before he sends another message.

/For once Galen, you're wrong. You know I usually prefer the ladies but then again for you I would make an exception. You cut a fine figure in those leather pants of yours. I'm never going to let you forget this Galen./

Coloring almost imperceptively, Galen focuses on the floor momentarily to regain his composure.

/Enough Fed. It is unimportant. What is it you want of me? To come back and lead your 'merry band' in some sort rebellion?/

Shocked, Fed vehemently shakes his head.

/NO WAY! I am the de facto leader. We're getting massively sidetracked. I'm not doing this very well. Let me try this again from a different angle. How much did you see when you were with us last?/

/It looks like everyone is settled in for the long haul. I noticed the new lab level, the hydroponics garden and everyone seemed pointlessly busy. I enjoyed the new pool quite a bit./

Fed's eyes alight with pride.

/The pool was my doing. I modeled it on the one at Disneyland Proxima. Anyway, Herazade has us completely focused on research. We have two parallel tracks going. One, which is already proving to be the more successful track, is a dozen different wearable tech projects that seek to recreate our abilities using normal stuff. Of course, it's a pale imitation of what any full mage can do. The other is focused on recreating our tech. When a mage dies now we no longer cremate them. Everyone gets to donate their body to science./

Galen makes a disgusted face.

/Remind me not to die in the hiding place. /

/When we needed supplies years back, Herazade expanded my authority to collecting materials and following any probe leads that might aid us in our research. We've been particularly interested in the Drakh. So we sent out the first group of mages and I got to 'recommend' who would go, so let's just say Galen's Order is well represented./

/First? There are other groups besides Gwynn's bumbling little party on Centauri Prime?/

Fed's facial expression freezes. Then a small embarrassed smile forms itself on his mouth.

/No of course not./

/Really? How about you tell me a little more about these non-existent groups?/

Feds eyes narrow on Galen seriously.

/Don't ask again. You don't need to know everything Galen. I think you'll be happier not knowing./

/That is unlikely Fed, but continue./

/We sent Kane, Gwynn and Finian to observe the Centauri. They were given strict orders not to go all REDRUM, to only collect supplies, observe the Drakh's activities and relay information to the Circle./

/I'm aware of that. Is the Circle aware that they are doing more? They are involving themselves in planetary affairs./

/Let's just say after Kane was killed by the Drakh, I explained to Gwynn and Finian that when it comes to dealing with the Circle it's easier to say sorry then to ask for permission. I learned that from you by the way./

Looking amused Galen responds.

/I see. This has all been nearly interesting but I hope there is a point to all of this soon./

/Your patience is rewarded. I'm done with the history lesson. A month ago Gwynn received a message on Centauri Prime that was shocking and, get this, for once it was in the good way. She found out Rhea is alive./

/Who?/

"I don't mean to interrupt your staring contest but I'm finished. Try not to move for at least four hours. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything for your hand. We don't have any prosthetics onboard. I'll be in my office if you need me," says

Dr. Chambers eyeing Galen.

Galen waits for the doctor to leave then walks over to Fed's bed. He picks up his left arm and begins to scan it.

"What happened to your hand?"

"The Vorlon homeworld happened to it," replies Fed shrugging sadly.

With eyebrows raised in surprise, Galen quietly says to Fed, "NOW, you have my undivided attention. You've been to Vorlon?"

Fed whispers, "Ya, and let me tell you it's a real let down. It's cold, creepy, the atmosphere is poisonous to humans, and full of … things that want to bite you. It even smells bad, I think it's all the methane in the atmosphere. Rhea was a technomage who … "

Galen interrupts him, "Yes, I just remembered. That accident in '56, just after we entered chrysalis stage, wasn't one of the mages named Rhea?"

"You got it in one."

"I recall reading the Circle's released summary about it. I did not know any of them. Elric said the Circle was … unhappy to lose three mages because of their own carelessness, but it was to be expected. Every few years the Order always seemed to lose a few mages to accidents. The nature of our interests and lives almost guarantees it."

"I heard that line to. Herazade's first assignment upon joining the Circle ages ago was to investigate that accident. The summary stated that three mages, Rhea, her father Coeus, and another named Tomoe blew themselves up while trying to dig up some damn artifact. She found remains from all three and the debris of their ships. It was assumed they were vaporized. The report concluded that their demolitions were improperly handled and were prematurely triggered by 'unexpected seismic activity.' … (Fed pauses, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.) I was ... attached to Rhea."

"What do you mean attached?"

"What do you think?"

"Ah. But … haven't you been attached to a great many women."

Fed looks down and away.

His hair conceals his face from Galen as he answers, "I'm about to sound like a cliché so prepare yourself. … She was different. She ah … 'broke me in'. I actually fell in love with her. Although she always argued with me that was only because I met her at a very impressionable age."

"Your secret is safe with me. Did she return your regard?"

With a wry grin Fed replies, shrugging, "She never used the 'L' word, if that's what you're asking. It took years of exposure to my unrelenting charms to get her to admit anything. All I know is she liked my company."

"I see. What does she have to do with the Vorlon homeworld?"

"Rhea contacted Gwynn on Centauri Prime. She has been on Vorlon, alive, for the last 13 years. They didn't die in any accident. They were … snatched by the Vorlons. It gets complicated from there, the others were eventually killed but she was left alive and is imprisoned."

His voice full of distrust, Galen asks, "How do you know this is real and not some sort of … illusion or trick?"

"Because it's impossible to fake your identity in an electron incantation. If it's a fake it's the first of its kind. It's definitely her, trust me. I couldn't believe it was her at first either. We tested her, all the memories are there anyway."

"True, and yet … captivity is never good. Is she different? Is she still sane?"

Fed snaps at Galen, "Of course she's different, skinny as hell, hardly smiles anymore, she's got this ring thing around her neck, but she seems all there to me."

A million questions fill Galen's mind, but he decides to start with the first obvious one.

Puzzled, Galen asks, "How did you manage to even enter their realm, let alone land on the surface?"

"When I arrived at the Vorlon empire border, Rhea uplinked to me the only safe path past all the still very active and numerous defense systems."

Suspiciously, Galen mutters, "How very convenient."

"Lucky for Rhea, I'm a more trusting soul than you, but don't worry- all convenience ended when we arrived in orbit. There is only one domed city left on the surface. The rest of the planet has huge perfectly circular bare spots as if entire cities were plucked off the ground by God. The intact city is at the base of some sort of space elevator that ends with an artificial moon. The domed city and elevator are covered with some sort of material that looks crystalline but simmers and pulses as if it is alive. It was completely impenetrable to us. I mean we spent two weeks trying to get through it."

"We? Who is with you?"

"Gwynn. You don't think I'd go alone? She got there before me. Gwynn finished her apprenticeship with Rhea's father. She knew Rhea well and so she's been … an eager beaver."

With even more distrust, Galen asks, "What have you tried in order to get into the city and why is Rhea suddenly unhelpful?"

"We tried everything short of nuking it from orbit. Rhea says there is no door or airlock of any sort on the inside. Anything she flung at it from the inside just bounces off ineffectually. I forgot to mention, as an added bonus, there are wards all around it. Thousands of weird little traps spread out in all directions for kilometers, even in the atmosphere. I've never been injured so many times. The one time I accidentally touched the substance of the dome, it began to infiltrate my hand and attacked my tech, slowly consuming it. It hurt like HELL. (Gloomily Fed lifts up his left arm and stares at his stump.) Gwynn had to amputate my hand to stop its progression. (Fed seems to snap back into himself.) Anyway, I've had a few more ideas about how to crack that egg open but, well, I doubt they will work. So … "

Galen knowingly responds, "You want me to come with you and try my spell of destruction on it."

"Ten out of Ten Galen. You always were quick. If we leave now it will only take us two days to get there."

Fed begins to get up and reaches for his clothes.

Reluctantly Galen begins, "I'm sorry but the answer has to be no, for the immediate future."

Freezing in place Fed asks confused, "What do you mean no? You must help. Would it help if I said please? I thought our friendship would be enough, but I believe I am not above begging pathetically."

Galen looks away uncomfortably.

"I made two promises to Gideon that I will not break. First, the Excalibur carries the cure for the plague and I promised Matthew I would stay to guarantee we deliver it."

Fed dismisses that with a wave.

"That is not relevant anymore. I've taken care of the only Drakh capable of stopping you. Nothing else can stop this ship. Not to mention the entire Ranger fleet and half of EarthForce is on it's way to escort you. Earth is over two days further from Vorlon."

"You cannot be certain of that."

Impatiently Fed demands, "How long do you plan to stay onboard?"

Galen lays out his plan, "We arrive in the Sol system in a few days. I will remain until the final transfer is made to one Dr. Franklin. A little over three days is my guess. After that Gideon and I go straight to Mars. My second promise to him was that I would help him find those in EarthForce who are responsible for the destruction of the Cerberus. … This should be of interest to the Circle as well. There is an EarthForce base on Mars that is devoted to researching Shadow technology. I believe they are trying to create their own version of … well us. I do not know anything else of significance but I have a feeling a deeper game is afoot. I will let you know if I find anything specific that will benefit the Order."

Fed looks startled and appears about to speak for several seconds. Instead he looks away but Galen can see different emotions play across his face: anger, sadness, and finally, disappointment.

"I don't like the sound of this at all. How do you know about this … supposed base?"

"That is a long story."

Sounding surly, Fed inquires, "We have three days. Will that be enough?"

Letting out a long breath, Galen starts slowly, "About six months ago, I discovered Gideon was in the thrall of an Apocalypse Box. Do you know what that is?"

"I wouldn't be much of a technomage if I didn't. The last one was suppose to have been destroyed 100 years ago."

"Apparently our records are imperfect. It had been giving him information while slowly feeding on his life energy. I confronted him and told him exactly what it was. He didn't care. He said he would gladly give up his life if it saves Earth."

Galen pauses sighing sadly.

Fed offers, "You decided Gideon's life was worth more, didn't you?"

Galen looks at him as if Fed just said the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

"Of course! I told him it had to be destroyed immediately. It was in his quarters, … Matthew tried to stop me."

Fed eagerly says, "The technomage who destroyed the others ended up having to chuck not just the boxes but himself as well into the black hole at the center of our galaxy. They are almost impossible to resist. How did you … deal with it?"

Galen's eyes look to be very far away as he begins his story, "As I approached it, the box spoke to me. It said I was just delaying the inevitable, that Gideon was destined to die. I was a fool and responded flippantly that we are all destined to die, but that if I have a say in the matter, Gideon will die of a predictable terminal disease brought on by reaching an almost obscene old age. Once it had me speaking to it, the box immediately began to tempt me, and I just stood there foolishly listening. It said all I have to do is leave it be, and it would tell me everything I desire- where the cure for the plague was, how to keep our Order from ending, how to be immortal, how to communicate with the dead. At that moment, I regained my senses and deadened my hearing and sight cutting off its tempting litany. I sent a sphere of destruction at it immediately and that proved to be sufficient. (Galen lets out a hard breath.) … After the smoke cleared, I saw it had burned one word into the bulkhead, _MARS_. …

Galen stops speaking and remembers.

_Galen waves smoke away from in front of his face, as he stares at the ruined remnant of the Apocalypse box. For the first time, his eyes notice on the bulkhead directly behind it, savagely scrawled into the metal, one word - _MARS_. _

_Astonished and confused Galen asks himself, "Mars? … The telepath war is over. Why would it have written Mars?"_

_Suddenly, the fire suppression system kicks in and rains water on him._

"_Ugh!" Annoyed, Galen flicks a hand in the air and water shuts off immediately. He quickly turns and walks to Gideon lying unmoving on the floor behind him._

_Placing a hand on Gideon's forehead, Galen orders, "__**AWAKEN**__!"_

_Gideon moans and opens his eyes. _

_He feebly utters, "Galen don't … No! I can feel it's gone … you already did it."_

_With Galen's arm for support, Gideon climbs to his feet shakily, and surveys his quarters._

_Shaking in frustration Gideon screams, "The box might have been Earth's … humanity's only hope! How dare you play God! It was MY CHOICE you son of a…"_

_Gideon takes a weak swing at Galen, but instead Galen captures him in an embrace and gently whispers near his ear, "If I was willing to feed a man like you to a thing like that, humanity deserves a bad end. … The emptiness you are feeling will pass with time …"_

_Gideon shoves Galen away and collapses on his hands and knees weeping. Galen begins to reach out to Gideon's prone form but stops the moment there is pounding on the door._

_They both hear a muffled yell from Lt. Matheson, "Captain! The security overrides have been engaged, we can't open your door. We'll have to blow it!"_

_Galen approaches the door and instructs it to open. As soon as it opens, six crewmen rush in wearing fire-fighting gear._

_With a calm gesture, Galen speaks, "Everything is settled, there is no need for that."_

_Pushing his way in, Lt. Matheson asks anxiously, "What happened?"_

_Sadly staring down at Gideon, Galen answers, "Something ended. … Matthew has … had a bit of a shock. Take him to Medlab. He should be well in a few days. I will be in my ship should you need me."_

_Galen sweeps out of the room._

With his eyes closed, Galen comes back to himself when Feds asks, "Galen?"

"Where was I? … Oh yes, when Matthew regained consciousness and realized the box was gone, he said … nothing, just wept with frustration. (Galen looks at the floor pausing and almost whispers the next few words.) Our friendship has never recovered. … (Galen regains his voice.) HOWEVER, since then I have wondered about Mars and I began to pay much closer attention to it."

Galen stops and looks at Fed, whose eyes have grown wide.

"Wow! You have the best stories. But there was a reason why the Order called them Boxes of Lies. They only mean harm. If I were you, Mars would be the last place I'd go."

Fed eagerly nods yes at Galen.

With certainty Galen continues, "I'm not done. Almost immediately afterward we encountered a ship identical to the one that destroyed the Cerberus. We followed it and had an encounter with an Earthforce special ops agent. Gideon had a chat with him. He told Gideon about the origin of our tech and about their base on Mars, then tried to recruit him to join … something, I do not know what. Gideon refused and the agent promptly tried to kill him. I saved Gideon's life … yet again, but instead of saying 'thank you my dear chap,' he accosted me in front of his command staff, including Dureena, and threw me off his ship.

"Dureena is your little thief right?"

"She is no one's little anything. The Shadows annihilated her people and her world. You can imagine how she reacted to me. … (Galen smirks sardonically for a second.) At least since then she's stopped asking me to take her on as my student."

Galen's eyes darken with severity.

"Sounds like you've had a really rough time with them."

Galen stares coldly at Fed and says plainly, "I always expect the worst and I have yet to be disappointed."

"Gideon must have gotten over it, you're here now."

"I brought them the information that ultimately led to us finding this cure. Gideon is stubbornly moral but also practical when he needs to be. Although now, I get the distinct impression I am on 'probation' with him."

Hesitantly Fed offers, "You know … Mars can wait. The base will still be there in a few weeks. Please Galen, just come with me."

Galen looks apologetic.

"I can not because Gideon will not wait. He'll get himself killed much faster if I am not there."

Fed points at Galen and challenges him, "We can't just leave one of our Order trapped. We owe it to Rhea to come to her aid."

Galen raises his eyebrow doubtfully, "Is she in danger?"

Reluctantly Fed answers, "No. … (Fed raises his voice.) FINE, leaving her aside. This is an unprecedented opportunity for the Order. Imagine what we'll find and learn if we can just … get in there."

Galen stares at Fed unsure what to say. Finally he decides caution is the best approach.

Galen offers, "I understand the enormous temptation. To know all that is knowable is at the heart of our Code. But if this is a trap, and YES I think THAT likely, perhaps that is what the Vorlons were counting on with…"

Fed seems to lose patience and cuts him off, "No more Galen! As a member of the Circle, I can command you to come with me!"

Calmly and defiantly, Galen answers, "Yes you can, but I believe you know how well I listen to the Circle. I suppose you can always attempt to manipulate or force me to help you."

Fed sags in acquiescence.

"No, I know better."

Galen pauses and reflects, 'Well, well. It took twenty years of knowing Fed, but at least now I see what it takes to get a real emotional reaction out of him. I wonder if he is even open to hearing reason in this right now. … No he is injured, I should let him recover before we argue more. The question is will I help him? … Yes … even if only to instill some caution into his, and the Circle's, seeming recklessness.'

Gently Galen offers, "I can offer you my counsel at least for now. As soon as I am done on Mars I SWEAR to you I will do everything in my power to help you. That is the best I can do. Now you should rest like the Doctor instructed."

Fed exhales disappointedly and runs his hand through his hair clearly upset.

"Okay. There is a bunch of stuff onboard my ship you can look at. I have given you full access permissions to my ship. Tear into it."

Taken aback, Galen looks at Fed with curiosity.

"I will go then."

First, Galen heads to Dr. Chambers office and asks her, "What did you find doctor?"

The doctor brings up a scanned image of a human male on the screen in front of her.

"Your friend must have had a rough month. The burns are the only recent injury. I found two recently broken bones, a deep contusion, and even the remnants of a subdural hematoma. These are consistent with falling at speed and blunt trauma. All of them are healing very well but at slightly different stages so my guess is they did not occur in one event. His hand though is a different story, it looks like a clean amputation, and I'd say skillfully done."

"That's enough doctor and thank you. Also when you are..."

The doctor interrupts him, "Yes, I'll remember to erase these files."

Galen nods his head and they both walk out of her office. Galen keeps walking and promptly leaves Medlab without a look back, while the Doctor stares at Fed.

Nervously she asks, "Is everything all right? I thought I heard raised voices."

Staring at the door to Medlab, frowning and with his jaw clenched, Fed answers, "Everything is … peachy keen."

-

Feeling slightly indignant, Galen walks away from Medlab reviewing his conversation with Fed.

'Galen's Order indeed! Of all the ridiculous things I've seen and heard Fed do, that is the most preposterous. Fed was right, I did NOT want to hear about it. … Thirty-eight … that's more than I would have guessed. If I were at all vain … ' He stops in mid-thought and smiles broadly to himself, feeling almost flattered.

As he enters the elevator he moves to stand by the far wall and faces the door. He says, "Nearest tube access point." The elevator speeds downward.

He tiredly leans backward onto the cold metal and closes his eyes in repose, 'Vorlon. Yet ANOTHER galactic sized matter that tugs at me. Curing the plague, safeguarding Gideon on Mars, dealing with the Drakh's growing influence on Centauri Prime, finding a way for the Order to survive, and, as if that isn't enough, now Fed wants to drag me to Vorlon into a certain trap.'

As he takes inventory of his responsibilities, Galen's anger begins to escalate until tiredly he lets out a harsh breathe.

'When will my time ever be my own again?!'

The elevator door opens. Galen quickly enters a transport tube, sits in his usual spot by the window and commands, "Docking Bay."

Staring out the window, Galen wonders, 'But then again, what would I do if every crisis suddenly disappeared?'

Galen casts his mind back through the years, to before he was technomage. All those peaceful happy years under Elric's tutaluge on Soom. His anger abates quite a bit. And not far behind, thoughts of Isabel, the love of his life, race through his mind. The happiest time of all was their quiet, few short weeks together. His soul stills as it yearns and is consumed by his desire to have that again.

Eventually Galen sighs in resignation and thinks, 'But it will never be. Soom was destroyed by the Shadows, Elric and Isabel are dead, murdered. Meanwhile, Fed seems to be rewarded with everything. His old home, Proxima 3, prospers in the ISA. His teacher, Herazade lives, and is the only real power left of the old Order… that is besides me. And if I'm wrong about Vorlon, the universe might be about to throw Fed into the arms of his … BELOVED.' The profound injustice of it hits Galen with full force and his anger ignites up once again.

Then unbidden, an image of Dureena flitters across his mind and Galen stills suddenly filled with a very different emotion. He starts turning his feelings over and over trying to examine them from every angle in an effort to figure them out.

'Not this again. Every time she is near me, I have to assert my autonomic controls to keep my heart rate in check and to stop the adrenaline surges. It can't be … (He doesn't complete the thought.) I know it is not just lust. But it's so different then with Isabel… I knew within the first minute that I loved her. With Dureena … definitely not. She was my … tool. I used her, more then once, to accomplish my goals. At first, we were just … acquaintances brought together by impossible events then friends, or as close as I can manage to friendship, … but now I find myself in the middle of … something. When did it change?'

An image of Dureena covered in mud handing him his lost staff burns itself into Galen's mind.

'Ah yes, that was a shock. For the first time I noticed … her. How exceptionally driven and … remarkable she is. She invaded me then. A romantic would say, on that day, her knife hit more then just my shoulder.'

Closing his eyes he let's his memory of that instant flood him. Galen feels the PAIN and again smells the mud, blood, his blood, and the antiseptics of Medlab. Then her, striding in and handing him his staff. The moment he took hold of it, its comforting energy flooding him, and just for a split second while she still held on to, he felt it- her energy.

In his mind, he freezes the image of her at that moment. She was so mud encrusted, she was more statue than living being. Like one of the classical works his mother used to show him when he was learning Greek as a boy, except Dureena was made of clay instead of marble. She was an Artemis returning from the hunt, while he, a mortal, struggling to keep his composure.

Back on the planet before Gideon had evacuated him back up to the Excalibur, she must have recognized his pain and … deeper loneliness. And no doubt she was sorry for having stabbed him. The staff was her offering of help and solidarity in the trials that lay ahead.

Galen focuses again on the frozen statuesque image of Dureena in his mind. He lets the image envelope and comfort him, but it quickly fractures and falls away as reality intrudes.

'Then she learned about the source of my power, and that damn, thrice damned, sword. A wall stretching to the sky went up. If she knew the whole truth would it make a difference?'

Frowning severely, Galen chides himself, 'Enough. This is idiotic. Dureena deserves more than an emotional cripple like myself. I must walk my path alone.'

The old familiar loneliness settles back around his heart like a favorite well worn coat.

'I must focus on helping Fed.'

Galen opens his eyes and realizes his transport tube has been sitting still with the door open for who knows how long. He looks around in discomfort and is glad no one was there to witness is daydreaming.


	5. Objects in Motion

**Chapter 5 - Objects in Motion**

**Medlab - Aboard the Excalibur December 23, 2269**

As soon as the doctor returns to her office, Fed reclines back down on the bed. Tiredly, he turns onto his left side, then restlessly flips to his right. Finally, he rolls onto his back blankly staring at the ceiling.

Letting out a hard breath, he shakes his head in disbelief saying, "No, I have to stop him."

He rapidly raises up and out of bed and grabs his black glove to place it over his left stump. Closing his eyes to concentrate, he exhales over the glove which instantly fills out and balls into a fist. Opening his eyes, he stares at the glove with some satisfaction as he taps the gloved thumb against each finger in turn. Once he completes dressing, he walks into the Doctor's office, to find her hunched over carefully examining a detailed scan of what Fed can only assume is himself.

Spying on her for a few seconds, he seems to come to a decision and starts by loudly clapping his hands together once, startling Dr. Chambers.

He exclaims at her, "My dear Doctor!"

With disapproval and concern, she scolds, "You had 3rd degree burns. You really ought to be lying down still."

"Thanks to your kind ministrations, I am nearly as fit as that proverbial fiddle people keep mentioning. Anyway, I'm … bored. I think I'll take a tour of this impressive ship."

Nonchalantly, he turns to leave then stops adding, "I almost forgot."

Walking up to her screen, he slowly runs his gloved index finger along the top edge of the screen.

Doctor Chambers opens her mouth slightly in surprise.

Weakly, she points at his glove to ask, "But you have no left ... How are you doing that?"

Cascading static immediately begins to fill and consume the graphics on the screen until it all goes dark.

"Why magic of course," he smoothly replies while taking her raised hand into his gloved one and squeezing it gently.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he places a small brown box on the table in front of her with his free hand.

Fed continues, "I was once assured by another healer that these are every woman's weakness. I hope that is the case with you. Thank you again."

Lowering his head, he lightly kisses the back of her hand before gently dropping it. With seeming purpose, he strides out of Medlab.

Dr. Chambers calls the bridge.

"Gideon here, what is it Doctor?"

"I thought you should know. Our second resident technomage just left Medlab on a self guided tour. Also, I need someone from engineering to come and fix my system. It's not responding."

Sarah can hear the frustration in Gideon's voice as he responds, "Great. Thank you doctor."

Staring at the box in front of her, she wonders what sort of gift a technomage would consider appropriate for this situation and if she should have reported it or just throw it in the nearest incinerator. Sarah picks it up and rotates the box in her hand contemplatively. Finally, her curiosity getting the better of her, she opens the box to find three small delicate chocolate truffles. Carefully, she lifts one up, examining it and pops in her mouth.

She breathes in sharply as she tastes it.

"Real chocolate! And it's the good stuff."

A smile spreads across her face and the sound of 'Mmhmmhmmh…' fills Medlab.

--

**Bridge of the Excalibur**

Worriedly staring out at hyperspace through the large forward bridge windows, Gideon drums his fingers against his chair in thought.

"Shall I alert security Captain?" inquires Lt. Matheson nervously.

"Yes … No, belay that. … Galen seemed comfortable with him. Lets assume he's friendly … for now. Besides it would be pointless, they won't be able to track him. … If there is problem we'll have to have Galen deal with it. Just in case, lock down the automated computer controls. I want navigation, propulsion, environmental and weapon systems switched over to the manual confirmation mode we added after that well of forever fiasco."

"Yes sir," acknowledges Lt. Matheson as he begins to issue commands into his headset.

With his jaw now clenched, Gideon goes back to worrying.

--

**Excalibur Docking Bay**

The docking bay hums with activity as Galen enters. Walking rapidly, he tries to associate with Fed's ship. The ship responds instantly and eagerly to Galen.

/Request acknowledged. Full level 7 access granted to Galen./

/Open hatch. Security setting minimum./

Galen enters the ship and immediately halts. While Galen typically keeps his central cabin dark, Fed's ship is lit up to maximum and Galen has to squint slightly because of the brightness. The metal walls of Fed's ship are painted red, as opposed to the usual flat metallic gray, and covered with pictures of alien ships, natural landscapes, partial bits of designs, and the odd work of art. The floor space is littered with piles of crates and boxes everywhere. As Galen stands there dumbstruck by the clutter, deciding how to proceed, a message appears before him from Fed.

/I see you didn't waste anytime./

/Really Fed, how can you live like this?/

/Quite easily, you should try it sometime./

Careful not to step on anything, Galen begins to work his way to the bridge of the ship. Occasionally, he pauses to peek into one of the many crates and boxes stacked about. In amusement, he messages Fed.

/Quite a party you are planning, fresh produce, a case of Absinthe, and more high grade EarthForce explosives then I would ever dare to carry./

/Try not to move too many things around. I have everything arranged perfectly./

By the main control console of the bridge area, there is a large pocket of perfect cleanliness with only one waist-high black metallic crate in the center. The top glows with a rune, one that Galen instantly recognizes, Herazade's stylized rune for progress. Below it, in elegant glowing script, are the initials C.R.E.W. Galen touches the box and feels it humming with restrained energy. Frowning, Galen decides to find an immediate answer to what is inside.

/What is the CREW? And why is it inside a Faraday cage?/

Fed's answer is swift.

/You really DON'T want to open that. It's our newest beta model and I haven't finished programming it yet. Leave it alone./

/That hardly tells me what it is./

/Clever and Relatively Effective Weapon. Let's just say in a target rich environment where you don't mind being noisy and messy it should prove useful./

Intrigued, Galen stands there trying to decide whether he should obey. As he vacillates, an eager message arrives from Fed.

/How about I help you?/

/It is I who am trying to help you not throw your life away./

/Why are you so convinced it is a trap?!/

Through his tech, Galen can sense the message resonating with annoyance and denial. He decides against opening the black crate and reluctantly makes his case to Fed, knowing it will touch off an argument.

/I told all of you what the Vorlon I encountered thought of us. Ulkesh called me an abomination and he didn't mean it in the endearing kind of way. What I did not tell the Circle, and now I think I should have, is his last words to me were, 'When it suits us, you will all die.'/

Fed's answer is swift and outraged.

/WTF! You THINK you should have told us? I THINK the answer is YES!/

Sarcastically Galen thinks to himself, 'And how much have you not told me?' However, he answers civilly.

/The Vorlons left with the Shadows after the war. I thought it no longer mattered, but perhaps they wish to make good on that promise./

After a minute Fed's challenging answer arrives.

/No, you have to be wrong. That makes no sense. I was THERE, Galen, on the surface. If they wanted the Order dead, and there was a Vorlon(s) lurking about, they could have grabbed me up. I know the location of the hiding place, relative to Galactic center, to the centimeter. They could have used their telepath-mojo to rip it out of my skull and gone totally postal on us./

Calmly, Galen counters with his observation.

/The Vorlon homeworld seems to have TRIED to kill you and Gwynn./

/BUT it didn't. Everything we encountered was an automated system, trust me I've played enough games against computer opponents. There was no guiding sentience behind any of it. Every time I got hurt it was either my carelessness or impatience. Gwynn hasn't even gotten a scratch./

Sudden realization dawns on Galen, 'This back and forth is pointless. Fed is too close to this and likely doesn't want to consider the sad truth. I must learn more … much, much more and only then can I convince him with irrefutable proof.'

Slowly, Galen composes a carefully worded response.

/The Vorlons were a great mystery and difficult to predict at the best of times. The truth here is I have no real clue about what they might have left behind or what they might have done to Rhea, but YOU must be prepared for the possibility that this is not what it appears. Ultimately, I can not decide on anything until I have reviewed EVERY piece of information that you already possess. Your impressions of Rhea cannot, by definition, be impartial. I want to review everything in your sensor log files from Vorlon, and did you record any of your interactions with Rhea? If you did, I must see them. After I have a chance of absorbing all that, I will speak with her myself./

Dispatching the message, Galen enters the bridge area of the ship while waiting for a response. The seamless black control surfaces and screens look identical to his ships except every underlying access panel has been removed laying open much of the inner workings. There are flexible metal conduits running off from the inners of the bridge controls in several directions. Following the largest one leads Galen to the first of the three small bedrooms. When he opens the door, Galen is greeted by a wall of humming machinery.

'Interesting … and what might you be?' Galen scans the machinery as he continues to wait for Fed's answer.

So many minutes pass that Galen begins to worry that Fed is ignoring him and will not answer. Galen had never before seen Fed react with anger when confronted … that is until today. Fed had always been the sort to absorb corrections and insults, turning them into jokes or willfully taking them as compliments. He has changed at least in this one way. No doubt, his circumstances have caught up with him. Certainly, being on the Circle for eight years can not be conducive to the easy going lifestyle Fed had always aspired to when they were apprentices. Galen decides to send a prodding message.

/Fed, are you going to answer me?/

A curt, almost petulant, answer arrives immediately.

/I'm thinking. Some of us aren't as swift or giant-brained as you Galen./

After several more minutes Fed sends his answer.

/The scans of Vorlon are in my ships central storage. You can grab them anytime. And, yes I recorded my conversations with her, well the ones that seemed important, but they are in my special private logs./

There is another protracted pause. Considering how eager Fed is, Galen guesses that Fed will eventually grant him his request but he thinks, 'Perhaps this will go easier for him if I use the magic word.'

/May I see them, please?/

/I don't mind you viewing them. I trust you more then you know. But I'm worried about upsetting your delicate sensibilities. There is a lot of racy stuff in there. If I give you access, I can't limit it. You'll learn things about me you might not want to know./

Letting out a disbelieving grunt, Galen almost laughs at the thought that any of Fed's escapades would shock him.

/Is it worse then anything I saw on Z'ha'dum?/

/No. Nothing can be worse than that./

Galen sends a reassuring message.

/I promise to tread lightly, keep any and all secrets that I might inadvertently learn, not make copies for my private enjoyment or distribute it for public amusement. Is there anything I am missing?/

/Haha. Okay. You'll find them on an isolated system in my room, the second bedroom, under my pillow. You'll have to enter the password: Exegi Monumentum Aere Perennius. Oh and look out for my spider. When it leaps for your head just say 'down boy' firmly./

/Spider?! And if I don't?/

/I doubt it would be able to kill you./

--

**Observation Lounge 1 Aboard the Excalibur**

The door opens onto the small observation room located at the top most point of the Excalibur. Fed uncloaks himself and becomes visible in the middle of the room. With a flick of his hand he locks the door mechanism behind him and looks about the small room. With only one small light above the door, the room is dark and full of shadows. There is a single bench recessed into the left wall, but otherwise it is unadorned. Focusing on the large floor to ceiling window, he sees the length of the ship as it is traveling through hyperspace.

In wonder, Fed appreciates the sight thinking, 'What a perfect place for a thorough snog.'

Wistfully, he wonders how many lonely members of the crew have shared intimate moments here.

He scans the room carefully making sure he will have complete privacy. Satisfied, he walks up to the window and leans his forehead against it feeling the cold of space radiate through. He closes his eyes and begins to cast the complex spell to set up an electron incantation. He creates a mental image of the room he is in and projects himself into it. Then he casts outward in the direction of the Vorlon homeworld seeking the tell-tale signature of his target.

After many minutes of searching, he finds her and the sleeping form of a woman appears on the floor in front of him.

Standing above her, Fed gently says, "Gwynn?"

There is no response.

"Gwwyynnnn," he says louder.

Finally, he gives up and just yells in her ear, "HEY WAKE UP! I need to talk to you."

She starts to stir and her eyes flutter open. Frowning and climbing to her feet, her dark blue eyes tiredly focus on him. Trying to fully rouse herself, she runs her hand over her perfectly smooth and bald head.

Grumpily, she starts, "Did you find him?"

Fed laughs and points at her.

"That's pretty funny Gwynn, I never figured you the purple silk pajamas type."

Crossing her arms defensively, she pertly doles out a quick self-assured response, "They are lavender! And you are right, it is more your color. Did you find him?"

Fed chuckles at that.

"Yes, he's on the Excalibur. Apparently, they've already found a cure, and are barreling toward Earth at top speed."

Gwynn's eyes light up and her frown disappears.

"Already? That's good right?"

Fed rolls his eyes.

"Of course."

Gwynn asks anxiously, "Did you find my cache?"

Serious now, Fed answers, "The suit and tools were exactly where you said they would be, but there's a bit of a problem, I still need to convince Galen to come with me."

Confused Gwynn asks, "If they have the cure, why wouldn't he come with you?"

"He insists on hand delivering it himself, then he's going all cloak and dagger to Mars with Gideon. He refused to come with me until he's done there."

Gwynn looks down lost in thought.

"He's right to make sure the cure is delivered. Ten billion people are more important than this. (She waves her hands around.) But why Mars?"

"You won't fricking believe this coincidence. He's going to look into EarthForce Special Weapons for Gideon."

Her face falls and she worried asks, "Does he know about Sidjak's group?"

"No. As an added bonus Tzak and Vergil after me to oversee the final phase."

Gwynn excitedly speaks, "This is not good. They are going step on each other's toes, then Tzak's going to put a slug between Galen's eyes. Tell the Circle. They'll have to keep Galen off Mars for a while."

Decisively Fed states, "No. They don't have time to send anyone. We arrive in the Sol system in three days. I'm it. He already knows about the base and suspects more. I have to figure out a way to keep Galen from stumbling into that pit of snakes."

Vibrating with nervous energy, Gwynn carefully asks, "What are you going to do?"

Fed is silent for several seconds and reluctantly offers, "I'm not heading back yet. I think I might have a plan that can fix both my problems. I have the run of the ship. I've got Galen … distracted."

Instantly, Gwynn unleashes a torrent, "No! Tell me right now you're NOT thinking of manipulating Galen because our dark brooding prince is going to turn you into …(she waves about a searching hand)… his personal asshat!"

Fed snorts out a laugh, and with his eyes sparkling, he resolutely offers, "Not Galen, it's his Captain I'm aiming at. (Fed affects an elderly man's Italian accent.) 'I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse.'"

Putting her hands on her hips, Gwynn nods disapprovingly and says, "It was nice knowing you Fed."

Inviting commentary, Fed expectantly asks, "Have you got a better idea? I'd love to hear it. I can't exactly shanghai the ship, not now with them carrying the cure."

Dropping her arms, Gwynn pauses lost in thought and comes up with, "Drug induced coma? Keep him out for a few weeks. Galen always looks like he could use a forced vacation."

Fed dismissively says, "I thought of that and yes that would work in the short run, but then I'd have to flee the galaxy once he woke up. Any other bright ideas?"

Gingerly she suggests, "In a pinch, the truth might do."

Throwing up his hands in impatience and frustration, he exclaims, "You have no idea how tempted I was to tell him! … But I don't dare. He's always kept me at arms length. I don't know him well enough. I can't predict how he'll react. Anything else?"

They both stand there stupidly staring at each other.

Disgusted with herself, Gwynn eventually admits, "No, sorry, but my instincts say yours is a bad one. Galen's too observant and clever. Plus he speaks really highly of Gideon. I think they're friends and if he finds out you've messed with him …"

Fed cuts her off, "If I play it right, Galen will never know. I'll need to talk Tzak into accepting Gideon, but that should be easy. As posturing as he is, I doubt he wants to have to deal with Galen snooping around, and Tzak wants us on Vorlon into that dome almost as much as I do. If I tell him I need Galen, he'll play along."

She questions him pointedly, "Do you seriously think you can do this? I mean have you ever done anything like this before?"

He doesn't answer right away and walks away from her a bit to stare out the window.

Without looking at her, he shrugs and speaks over his shoulder, "No, but I was there and watched Elric out-maneuver the Shadows, and I've studied the Circles private history files. I understand how to do it … in theory. You have to really KNOW your target and accurately guess how they will react. When Hekuba and I were … um ... seeing each other, she painted quite a picture of Tzak for me."

Confronting him, Gwynn interjects with outrage, "Stop! You slept with Tzak's old apprentice just to get information out of her. That is ugly."

Fed whirls around in surprise and defends himself, "I would never do that! You know me better then that. SHE came to ME. I turned her down twice because I didn't want to make trouble between them. But then she … um … she convinced to give it a go."

Gwynn questions him, "So what, is this a cliche? Was she just trying a needle in her father's eye?"

Fed looks at the ceiling imploring it for help that does not arrive.

"That's what I thought to, at first. But the truth was very different and … complicated."

"Yes it always is for you. It's not suppose to be you know. Most of us are happy with just one..."

Sharply, Fed cuts her off, "Drop it Gwynn! It only lasted a week but in that time she volunteered all the information I need about Tzak now. OKAY?! Can we get back on topic? (Slightly sheepish, Gwynn nods in agreement.) There was a reason why he made his home near EarthForce's main shipyards by Charon. He loves more then just weaponry, he's a huge fan of the military types, if you know what I mean." Fed raises both his eyebrows.

Frowning as if she just ate something rancid, Gwynn answers, "I am going to pretend I do not."

Continuing, Fed gains verbal momentum, "My point is I know he'll be pleased. Vergil's useless when it comes to fighting, Aky and Sid are too busy. Tzak was constantly pushing Hera to send more agents to Mars. At worst, he'll consider Gideon another stick he can throw on the pyre, most likely he'll be glad to have another gun around."

Challenging him, Gwynn asks, "And Gideon?"

"I've already hacked his EarthForce records. Gideon worked his way up the ranks in the Marine branch. He's seen plenty of real action and is quite a bad-ass. You should read his commanding officer reviews. It's either a glowing recommendation or complete condemnation, either way the one theme is he's a risk taker. Before I do anything, I'm going to hack his personal logs as well, then I'm going to isolate him and…"

Interrupting him, Gwynn raises a knowingly hand and warns, "I have a good idea of what you are planning for Gideon, but if you get him killed, you will make an enemy of Galen …"

He raises his voice to speak over her, "Don't you think I know that! (Fed stops himself and exhales slowly. His voice turns gentle and quiet.) … I'll take the chance. Galen can NOT learn about what we are doing on Mars, but Gideon on the other hand, I can fool … I hope. Anyway, according to Galen, Gideon's going no matter what, the moment they are back in system. While Gideon might not be in better hands, he'll at least be in more and better-informed hands. I've always appreciated your counsel Gwynn, you're my go to (he flashes a quick grin and again adopts an Italian accent for a second) 'consigliere,' but here I'll decide."

Gwynn bows to him with a practiced acquiescence, but still she comments dryly, "Hera will not be pleased."

Sarcastically Fed responds, "No kidding? … But this is going to play out too quickly and she's not going to learn about it until it's done, so she doesn't matter. Now I should go and finish what I need to do. Tell Rhea of the delay for me."

Calmly Gwynn probes, "Why don't you tell her yourself?"

"God damn it Gwynn! For once, can't you do as I ask without question."

Goading him, she says, "Let me think about it. (She puts a finger on her chin.) No. What is wrong with you? I seem to recall during the 'unmentionable night' you bawling on my shoulder about how much you loved her and missed her. Now the Deus Ex Machina has dropped her in your lap and you act remote and cold. What the hell is going on with you?"

"We were so drunk I'm surprised you remember anything from that night."

"Inexplicably and ... unfortunately, I have perfect recall of that one night. Now stop evading!"

Staring at her silently for several seconds, Fed sags and confides in her, "Last time I spoke to her alone, right after we interrogated her, I tried to tell her about how I still love her. I screwed it up. I let my mouth run on too much. She got … nervous and abruptly shut me down. She had Roland's sword and started gripping it like some sort of talisman to ward me off. I think … you know, I took second place to him. … (Fed dismisses it with a wave of his hand.) It doesn't matter, she made it she clear doesn't want to talk to me."

Intensely serious Gwynn cuts loose, "She didn't act the way you wanted, so now you're going to punish her by ignoring her? What are you jealous of a dead man? I didn't even think you were capable of jealousy."

Waving her off Fed explains, "No, it's not that. It's ... guilt, I guess. He went after them and now I wish to God I would have gone but I was a useless chrysi who stayed home perfecting his drinking skills."

Gwynn walks up close to Fed and just stands there for several long seconds.

Finally, full of feeling, she gently suggests, "Good. Even if you had gone, you would have just been butchered like the rest of them. At least this explains why you were so distracted and careless when you were here."

Fed shakes his head yes and adds, "Now, the only nagging question eating at me is why did they really leave her alive? I'm desperately hoping it's exactly what it appears and the Vorlons haven't turned her into some sort of Manchurian Candidate."

Confused Gwynn demands, "A what? STOP using movie metaphors I have to guess the meaning of. I hardly ever went to your film festivals."

"You know, she sees the Queen of Diamonds, then she snaps and tries to kill us."

"You mean a sleeper agent?"

"Exactly, what if we're going to have to ... I can't even say it."

Coldly Gwynn continues for him, "Kill her? … Hera and I discussed that possibility. If it comes to that, I'll take care of it."

Dejected Fed slowly says, "Just like that. You'd what … borrow my knife and cut her throat?"

Anger flashes across Gwynn's eyes.

"No, not just like that! She was like my real sister for years before you showed up. But yes, if she's too far gone or tries to murder us, I'll do what needs to be done."

Running his hand through his unruly hair from stress, Fed apologizes, "Forgive me ... Galen is convinced already that it's a trap and now he has me worried."

Gwynn throws up her hands and says, "That figures. Of course we have to be on our guard, but I am NOT leaving until we crack that dome open."

Flashing a grin, Fed chimes eagerly, "I'm with you on that. How's the clearing going?"

Gwynn lifts both hands, wiggles all her fingers, and answers, "Still in one piece. Unlike you, I know how to be cautious. Today I finished clearing another 100 meter section adjacent to it. We can land right next to the dome. Also, I've been running more detailed scans. The dome is spherical and even extends underground, so we can't dig under it. I analyzed the moon some more. The junction between the moon and elevator is perfectly tight. We can't slip in that way either. I still have no idea what any of it is made up of. I tried to drill into the surface of the moon and all I got for my efforts is a pile of broken drills bits and a burned out motor. It turns out only the top meter is made up of rock, the rest … this might sound familiar … I have no clue what it is made of."

With a dismissive wave, Fed stops her and whines, "Just when I think everything is coming up rainbows and candy, everything turns into a giant pile of … suck. Forget that damn moon for now. (He lets out a frustrated grunt and cocks his arms on his hips defiantly. After several beats his countenance brightens and he confidentially goes on.) No matter what we're technomages, we'll figure it out and MAKE it work … eventually."

Gwynn's eyes mirror his brightening and she smiles as she agrees, "Yes. Did you ever get the hand spell working?"

With a mischievous grin on his face, Fed lifts his gloved left hand between them with his palm facing himself and the fingers outstretched.

"Oh sure, though it wasn't easy. I had to figure out how to seamlessly keep sixteen small platforms smoothly moving in concert, but I think it works well. Let me show you."

He curls all the gloved fingers but the middle one.

Grinning frostily, Gwynn snaps back at him, "Very mature Fed. I'm going back to sleep."

Laughing at her fading image, he jests, "Sorry, my spell must be glitched."


	6. Command Not Found

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

And now for something different. This chapter diverges quite a bit from earlier chapters. There are many snippets set in the world of the technomages before season 1 of Babylon 5. I experimented with different writing styles. It has too many shifting perspectives, flashbacks are overused, and it is too wordy, but I had a rollicking good time writing it all originally and am currently too busy to edit it down beyond what I have done already. If you hate to read dense complicated stories or hate technomages or hate authors getting all inventy with their own characters, FLEE for those demons are about to knock at your door for the next few chapters. If you feel like grumbling please go ahead in a review. All I ask is you keep in mind what you paid to read this story. As a kindness, I have focused all the Crusadey stuff at the end of the chapter, so you can skip ahead.

SPECIAL THANKS: Seras Serenity for some proofing, suggestions, encouragement.

Spoilers for Crusade and the Technomage Trilogy novels.

A general technical note.

EOF stands for End of File marker.

**CHAPTER 6 - COMMAND NOT FOUND**

**Excalibur Docking Bay – December 23, 2269**

Pilots, mechanics, and deckhands scurry about preparing fighters for launch at a moments notice. They go about with an intensity born out of a rumor, which shockingly this time is true. There is a Drakh fleet nearby which has only one purpose, to stop them. And so the crew of the Excalibur nervously vibrate, busily, double and triple checking everything. That is except for one large bubble of perfect calm. No one dares to pierce that shadowy sphere at the end of the docking bay, where two technomage ships sit side by side. Instead, the deck crew whispers among themselves about them, much of it around one theme … technomages never move openly about unless the metaphoric shit is about to hit the proverbial fan.

But none of that is Galen's concern. He stands inside Fed's cluttered ship near one of its three sleeping cabins. If this were his ship he would have a short, clear path to … well anywhere. However here, his path is blocked by crates, random machinery, and objects with no discernable function beyond being in his way.

He sighs and messages the ship while taking a circuitous route to his goal, Fed's own private cabin. The normal disquiet settles over Galen's mind whenever he is about to enter someones private space.

//Ship access sensor log system. Uplink all scans made of and around the Vorlon homesystem bearing any timestamp.//

//Transfer commencing...//

He is hit with a copious stream of files. Carefully, Galen shunts it aside into his tech's vast storage for later perusal, because, astonishingly, as he opens the door into a small, disorganized bedroom, on the far wall beside the bed, looming and dwarfing everything else is a Vorlon encounter suit. It is, in many ways, the opposite of the last one he saw. Years before the Vorlons and Shadows left, he had sought out a Vorlon, UlKesh, to help him get to Z'ha'dum. Now THAT suit was an intimidating tool that oozed authority and power. But this one… Galen shakes his head murmuring, "Unbelievable." For one thing, it looks like it was dragged behind a shuttle through re-entry. It is without any of the usual fabric that typically obscures its exact shape. Galen can make out dents, gauges and dark black scorch marks. While otherwise intact, its 'head' is located on a small nightstand by the bed surrounded by a smattering of tools. Perhaps the Vorlon homeworld is littered with them and Fed brought one along to examine. But then why would he take one in such poor shape? Perhaps he discovered the equivalent of a Vorlon junkyard. Either way, this suit will not be intimidating anyone ever again.

Then from somewhere by his feet an alarm blares interrupting his examination.

A robotic voice continuously trumps, "Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!..."

The suit distracted him enough that he did not notice the mechanical spiderish thing that scuttled out from under the bed when he entered. Galen's attention snaps onto it just in time to see it leap off a pile of unfolded clothes, into the air toward his head. His first instinct is to hurl a well-placed fireball at it but instead he recalls Fed's joking warning.

"DOWN BOY!" exclaims Galen.

The spider executes a perfect somersault in mid air and lands in front of Galen's boot where it promptly sketches something with its leading right leg on the tip of his shoe. He tries to kick it away but it avoids him easily, scuttling back under the bed.

//Fed, what did your spider just do to my shoe?//

//Isn't it great? That was its guarding mode. It also has servitor, patrol and entertainment modes.//

//I'm still waiting for an answer.//

//It just sketched the rune for friend in infrared ink.//

Galen walks up to the Vorlon suit and briefly examines it. Dozens of probing wires are leading out of the hole where the head usually sits and up close it looks more deconstructed. He decides it can wait and sits down on Fed's unmade bed. Moving aside the pillow, he finds a small smooth ball.

Galen immediately recognizes it. After the mages went into hiding, Galen noticed that Fed liked carrying around a small ball that he would absentmindedly bounce rhythmically. One of the many parts of Fed's peculiar charm that would immediately grate on his nerves. This appears to be the same ball. Galen had always assumed it was just an ordinary ball, but with careful examination, he finds a tiny access port through which he can link into it.

//PWD?//

Galen inputs the passphrase Fed had given him. It accepts it readily but nothing much happens, no system daemon presents itself, no visual interface, no text … nothing, but a single waiting prompt, like the earliest arcane computer systems. Recalling enough of the esoteric protocols that used to pass for computer commands, Galen tries to coax information out of it. However, no matter what he tries the sphere only responds with three highly annoying and useless words:

//Command not found//

Pulling himself back out of the link, he stares at the ball, rotating it in contemplation and indignantly utters, "What can you do?"

Galen let's out a frustrated grunt as he thinks, 'Just once it would be nice if something came easily.' Considering that Fed, is one of the most gifted hackers in the Order, why he would employ such a primitive, and clearly dysfunctional system is beyond Galen … for now.

He considers messaging Fed, but decides against it. That would be admitting defeat. This is a puzzle and one of the few pleasures Galen allows himself is solving obscure little thought puzzles.

Galen thinks, 'Surely I can figure this out. … If I were Fed how would I access your files? … Something simple and obvious… Let's try this.'

//0//

(Suddenly, Galen's mind fills with a date and Fed's voice.)

-18.01.2256

Today I learned Rhea is dead. Hera told me in her usual way, long-winded and indirect. Some stupidass accident. She used the word, 'vaporize.' POOF, all gone. I ... asked to go with her on the investigation but she forbade it.

I told Gwynn first. She reacted with such a fixed cold stare I wondered if she heard me at all. Optima burst into tears and cut the transmission. Lastly, I told Roland. Of course he became weepy, and then all enraged. He vowed to horn in on the investigation and asked me if I wanted in, hell he even offered to come and get me. I turned him down. It won't bring them back and Hera promised to tell me everything anyway. As for me ... I have the keys to the wine cellar so I'm thinking excessive drinking followed by a good long bout of crying myself to sleep. Dios ayudame.

EOF

---

Galen immediately moves to the next entry.

//1//

-16.02.2256

Hera has just gotten back. She asked me if Roland talked to me at all. I said no. Apparently, he's vanished. Everyone thinks he killed himself, but they can't be sure because no one has found any trace of him or his ship. He was pretty upset and he always struck me as the half-crazy sort of technomage, so ya maybe.

Hera went down to the cellar today and noticed half the bottles are missing. So we had a long, long … long talk. She wouldn't let it go until I spilled everything. Here's what I learned from her: life sucks, deal with it, and move on. You owe it to the dead to keep living, and enjoy life even more than before. Of course I'm paraphrasing, she said it better, with colorful asides and allegories. Oh ya, and I better moderate my drinking or we're turning into a 'dry' household, whatever that means. Thus ends my foray into nightly alcoholism, which is fine I suppose since I drank all the good stuff anyway. She told me she deals with her emotions by pouring them into her personal logs. It can be cathartic, and helps with the whole moving on part. Maybe I'll do something like that, if I can build up a head of steam.

-20.02.2256

Hera's unhappy with my … 'attitude.' How rich is that. Hypocrite. She locked herself in her office for the last three days and is now dragging herself around the house. So what if I don't shower and all I do is sit around in my underwear watching Trajan do its daily network traffic analysis. If I don't improve she has threatened to 'fix me.' I think I'll let her.

EOF

---

//2//

(Fed's voice is overly excited and manic.)

-24.02.2256

I've been fixed! Those endogenous opioids really do the trick. It's like … I have to CLUTCH my desk to keep from falling off the planet. It's really weird suddenly going about my studies feeling NORMAL, okay not normal… SUPER HYPERLY peppy. Hera said I don't have a melancholy disposition so I won't be on them for long. She's right, I

already feel myself letting it go but I hope I will always remember her as vividly as I do now.

-25.02.2256

I finally got good news, Gwynn answered one of the hundred messages I left her. I can't believe how relieved I feel. We talked for a while. She looked and sounded like … the Queen of the Ice-Queens. I asked her why she wouldn't talk to me. She said she was busy ... had to 'clean up' the house and that she's shacked up with that normal of hers, Peter. Anyway, I'm glad she's got someone.

-10.03.2256

No more happy juice for me. Thank the chocolate covered Christ child. I was starting to get all these weird side effects. Surprisingly, I liked the three hour erections the least. But it helped, and I got used to working on like nine different projects at once. I'm Mr. Productive.

I was nosing around in Hera's private files looking for ideas to steal for new projects when I stumbled on something super interesting. She worked out a way to insert nanoprobes into the visual cortex. If you arrange them in a duodecahedron pattern you can transit visual/audio imagery out of a human brain. I asked Hera about it and she got all weirdly stern. Then ordered me forget it and not to talk about it with anyone. I'm guessing it's secret Circle stuff. She found and deleted all my copies of her files but she can't delete my head. Three cheers for my photographic memory.

SOOOO, I've decided to go all out. I'm going to digitize my memories and uplink them. I mean sure, I can wait two and half years till I'm a technomage, but why, if there is another path, right? The technique looks easy enough, if you can ace the vasal micro-movements. The stroke risk is minimal, only like 6%. Since I've already mastered platform creation down to that level, I should have no problems whatsoever. I got it all planned out. I should be able to do it through my chrysalis port and I've swiped enough nanoprobes. I'll just need thirty minutes alone while wearing my chrysalis without Hera around. I'll figure something out.

-11.03.2256

Madre de Dios! … That hurt! I hope I didn't do too much permanent damage. I can't seem to remember how to do differentiation. I'm sure it will come back to me. Now that I think about it, maybe I should have waited a bit until I was more skilled with my movement control.

Oh well. Hera found me passed out on our lab's internal imager. When I regained conciseness, she was completely freaked out and pumping full of blood thinner. I've never seen her like that. Luckily, she didn't get angry with me, just … scared. I think she blames herself for not locking up my chrysalis and hasn't punished me. I've gotten the rest of day to recover from my self-inflicted stupidity. She even made me chocolate chip cookies. They're still as good as ever. Let's see if I can eat two simultaneously right now, …(chomp, chomp argh, argh mmmmhh) … I'll try to pull an early memory tonight, as soon as the throbbing has stopped.

-12.03.2256

They sound fine, looks like a dream, but more importantly IT WORKED! I feel seriously arrogant and prideful right now. But I can't leave this sitting in my network storage. Hera will find it and the hyper-encryption will just make her curious and MORE likely to spend the time and effort to crack it open. I'm moving everything to an isolated system. I can even disguise it, ya, something innocuous no one would look twice at.

EOF

---

//3//

(Fed's good-natured voice speaks.)

I've often thought of this day. It was … a day of firsts. The first time I realized someone I love will die soon and the first time I meet the woman of my dreams. It was also the worst first impression I've ever made, by far, an I've made some bad ones … (His voice trails off into laughter as images flood Galen's mind in a swirling, vomit inducing manner.)

-21.11.2252

"Woohoo! Too much fun." I yell.

The image is just a confused blur of rotating motion. There is a distinct impression of sweating profusely and being strapped into some sort of machine.

"Recite the Code," asks a blurry blob with a muffled perhaps female voice.

I answer easily, "Solidarity, Secret, Mystery, Magic, Science, Knowledge, Good."

---

Pulling himself back out of the link, Galen realizes that he is actually seeing Fed's memories as if he was Fed. As promised, the images are dreamlike with the perspectives skewed and disproportionate, but easily comprehensible. Galen sits there in shock that Fed managed to pull it off AND not get himself killed. The six percent failure was no doubt per probe. Probabilistically speaking, that virtually guarantees a stroke but clearly Fed did not understand that.

There are many memory retrieval techniques available to a technomage once they are fully teched, but this is the first technique Galen has encountered that works on a brain, well a living one anyway, without employing the services of a telepath. No matter the means, viewing such memories is always head-ache inducing and possibly disturbing because of the immediacy of the images.

Galen considers whether or not he should keep going. On the one hand he can learn what he needs without censoring or wading through Fed's obtuse interpretations, but on the other hand it will be more time-consuming and … intimate then he was prepared for. He decides to try and split the difference.

He messages Fed.

//Your log system has a bit of a usability problem. Exactly how am I suppose to find anything?//

//You can't. I stripped the kernel to make room for the last few entries. I've meant to expand it with more capacity but I've been busy.//

That would explain the sphere's unfriendly interface. Piqued, Galen responds.

//You should have warned me your logs are in memory stream format.//

//And ruin your fun? I think not.//

//I would rather not bumble around in your private logs Fed. At least tell me which entries I should focus on or better yet, I can bring you the sphere and you can pull the relevant entries for me, avoiding any unnecessary intrusions.//

There is a very long pause.

//No. You wanted to know ALL, to be some sort of supreme impartial judge. If you are going to violate my privacy, I would prefer you do it as completely as possible. And besides, if you want to interrogate Rhea properly, you had better learn everything you can about her, RIGHT? That sphere is a great source of information. Now leave me alone.//

Frowning, Galen reflects on how Fed seems to have gone past anger and into full-blown peevishness. Odd. Perhaps Fed is under more stress then he guessed. Unfortunately, that leaves the problem of what to do. Galen reflects on what to do, go to Fed anyway or stay and plow through the entries in the sphere?

Galen goes back to compulsively rotating the ball in his hand. This would hardly be the first private interaction he has, there are no other words for it, spied upon. Particularly, not after spending years monitoring the technomage

probe network, not to mention all the probes he's left scattered about the galaxy. If Fed has no problem with Galen seeing anything on the sphere, should he even be hesitating?

Coming to a decision he says aloud at the sphere as if it could understand, "I am sure I will regret this, but here is hoping you are worthwhile."

Realizing this might not be a quick, Galen makes himself comfortable, taking off his shoes, and coat. He neatly makes Fed's bed then lies down on top of the blanket. Steeling himself, Galen dives back into the point he left off.

---

The motion begins to slow and I can make out a vaguely human shape illuminated in the dull red glow of an alien sun.

The figure speaks clearly now, "Of those good is the greatest. It is what I have devoted my life to and so must you."

"Is that why you drag me with you into the slums and charities?"

The voice clearly female, makes a mocking reply, "Oh, how very perceptive Fed. Humanity might have mastered space travel but we are still very much smothered in violence, poverty and the greed generated by it."

"Hey, at least no one goes hungry anymore."

"That is only partially true. For many, human or not, life is still too short, and brutal. I will cut my lecture short today. The lesson you must take away is, great power is given to a technomage, great good is expected in return. Do you understand?"

"Sure. Be good, do good."

The figure snaps into sharp relief, and she, clearly it is Herazade, says under her breath, "As succinct as ever."

She lifts her hand and everything comes to a complete stop. The straps suddenly loosen and I jump down landing with a grunt.

"How do you feel? Light-headedness? Nausea?"

"Nah. I feel great."

Probingly, she asks, "Fed, I have meant to ask … what do you and Aldous do on your Sundays mornings together?"

Excitedly, I answer, "We have an awesome time!"

Her eyes burn into me, "Yes I noticed. Doing what exactly?"

"He said I don't have to tell you."

She steps into my space filling my field of view. As she leans closer, clearly trying

to will me into answering with just her presence, I continue, "He said if you try to force it out of me, that I should make up stuff, the more awful and outrageous the better."

Looming over me, she answers with one curt word, "Unacceptable."

"He said that if you keep at me, I should tell you to leave me alone and go speak with him about it. (Sighing in defeat and resignation, her body relaxes as she pulls away, a small smile on her lips.) If you don't approve, why did you suggest it in the first place?"

She plainly answers, "Before I found you and took you on as my apprentice, your world was all negligence, and thuggery. I thought you should have a father-figure who was not a drug-dealing criminal and who better then my own father."

At that, I laugh loudly at her.

Frowning severely at my response, she waves a dismissive hand, "It seemed like a good idea at the time. We WILL revisit this another time. … But for now you can have tonight and most of this week to yourself."

"YES!" I say pumping my fist happily.

"Put everything away first."

I whine, "Oh come on! It's heavy and it will take me forever. Why don't you just wave your hand and put it away in two seconds?"

Annoyed, she points one finger at me.

"Rudely whine again and you will spend your evening in my office studying the Italian Renaissance. Our guests will be here soon. You are NOT to spend all night in the VR pod avoiding them like you did with our last guests ."

I defensively answer, "That's because I hated being around Kell's apprentices. Whenever we were alone, the nicest thing Elizar called me was a buffoon and his sister ... don't get me started about her! ..." I draw circles near my temple.

Glaring at me she starts,

"Why didn't you tell me? (She stops herself and just stares at me fir a while.) It is too late for me to do anything now. Coeus also has two apprentices but you will find they are very different. I expect you to be a perfect host, and take excellent care of them."

I bow formally and dramatically. "I hear and obey great Queen!"

She points me toward what appears to be a large gyroscope but I remain in place and turn to see a tall, husky, old man, in an embroidered tunic swirling with clashing colors, stepping through the nearest door. His long white hair bounces freely about as he spryly strolls toward us.

Herazade mutters with a smile, "Ah speak of the devil …"

She turns to the man, bowing deeply and clearly annunciates, "Aldous."

He asks me loudly, "Ready to meet our guests?"

I shrug. "Umm, sure."

He points at the gyroscope and says instantly and fully irritated, "THAT makes my house look like a sodding circus. Put that thrice-damned eye-sore away already!"

Immediately, I jump and hurry to obey him. They begin to slowly walk off toward the other end of the courtyard.

Grunting with exertion, I start to drag the gyroscope slowly into an open shed but overhear their receding conversation.

Aldous begins, "You should discipline him more."

"What spare the rod, spoil the child? No. Besides I have you."

He interrupts her, impatiently, "Yes, yes. So you and Coeus finally kiss and make up? Ten years is a long time to hold a grudge only to suddenly give it up."

"There was no grudge. Our disagreement was more about style then substance."

"How very vague. How about you explain that to me?"

They pause and stare at each other for a good minute.

Aldous' expression slowly turns surprised and pleased as he exclaims, "Ha!"

They continue walking with a silent animation as I enter a shed and lose sight of everything.

When I step back out, I look toward Herazade and see she is speaking with three new technomages. I run quickly toward them. Right by her is Aldous, now sitting on air, an invisible platform supporting him no doubt.

There is a tall middle-aged man. His black hair is receding and shoulder length with noticeable specks of gray and a few strands willfully sticking out at right angles. He is dressed in an expensive looking black suit with a festive red and green pattern flowing along one jacket arm, across the shoulders, down the other arm and back. He appears to be examining Aldous with a crystal in his hand.

Standing together nearby are two young women, who are remarkably different. The younger of the two is bald and is

dressed meticulously in the traditional apprentice robe and cloak. Her severely angry expression is locked on Herazade

and marrs an otherwise stunningly beautiful face. The elder is the shortest of the group, barely above my eye level and the thinner of the two. She carries a cylindrical container, slightly hidden by her apprentice cloak which lays carelessly draped about her shoulders like an afterthought. Underneath, she's wearing a bright red silken scarf, a vibrant green tunic and worn looking brown pants with one poorly applied patch on the right knee. Her long black hair is precisely braided, with extra pins restraining the few strands trying to escape. She seems to be ignoring the conversation around her. Instead she is intently studying me as I run up to stand by her.

Herazade says toward the bald apprentice, "Myrenda was an excellent mage and a very good friend. She is missed by many, I count myself among that number."

The beautiful bald apprentice says nothing as her expression turns from angry to distantly icy.

"Aren't you done yet?!" Aldous interjects, his irritation on full display.

"Nearly ... How's the pain?" asks the middle aged man lowering the crystal.

Aldous waves a hand looking affronted but replies, "Just give me a couple of those 'party in a box' bottles you always carry around. Well, what's the verdict?"

In response, the man puts the crystal in a pocket and pulls out two small white containers.

He hands them to Aldous without comment and says, "I would like to speak with you in private."

"No, we're all family here. Just spit it out."

The man pauses and looks at Herazade and me. He slowly speaks, "I have confirmed your suspicions. As I'm sure you know, there is still no cure. There is little I can do apart from slowing its progression."

A stunned silence settles in about our group. Confused my mouth hangs open and I look back and forth between the adults with growing unease. The seconds slowly pass as the silence deepens.

Finally, Aldous gruffly says under his breath, "Shit. I was hoping I was just being a hypochondriac. How long?"

"I can not be precisely sure unless you allow me to analyze your genome. Your tech has been compensating for some of the neuromuscular junction atrophy. It is usually slow. My guess is you still have a few years."

He shakes his head yes and asks, "Will my mind go?"

"Typically it does not affect the mind. As you have noticed it effects your voluntary muscular control and is tolerable until it begins to effect your intercostal muscles..."

Aldous waves off the rest of his comments, "At least Kell will finally let me retire, or not. He keeps his cards clutched so closely to his chest who the hell knows."

He looks up at Herazade and they stare at each other silently. I feel my eyes begin to fill with tears. I wipe them away and force myself to stop.

"Hera, I've mentioned this … possibility to Kell. We decided you will be my replacement. I will bring you to a

few of our Circle meetings during the convocation. They want to talk to you, and by talk I mean grill really."

"That would not be proper, no election has been announced. Not to mention, I haven't even agreed to..."

Aldous interrupts her yet again, "Since when do you give a bloodied Xon about what's proper! The election is just a formality anyway. Whoever receives Kell's blessing will win and that's you. But I know Kell, he's going to drag his feet and keep everyone in suspense. We only call for an election when we're certain who we want to win and who actually will win are the same person. (He stops speaking suddenly noticing the audience intently listening to his harangue.) We'll talk about this later. I'm off to finish preparing the convocation site."

"I will assist you," offers Herazade, adjusting her clothing as if making ready to leave.

"No. I want to be alone. (He smiles oddly as he looks around.) You kids stay and have fun. Besides this is my 5th hosting, I could set up everything with my eyes closed."

He stands, forms a platform under himself. Then he shoots off into the sky disturbingly fast and soon pops out of view.

He leaves a pained and awkward silence in his wake, as we all stare into the sky after him. Finally, Herazade clears her throat and looks at me, "I am sorry Fed. I should have introduced you before this."

I feel the blood drain out of my head and a wave of nausea washes over me.

"Federico this is Coeus, and his two apprentices, Rhea and Gwynn. They are from Earth and will be staying with us until..."

Her sentence is cut off when I vomit on the pants and shoes of the one called Rhea.

She yells, "GAH!" But catches me before I fall. I look into her eyes, which narrow in concern and exasperation at the same time. She gently lowers me to the ground.

Crouching next to me and sounding more irritated than anything, Herazade says, "I thought I told you not to eat anything today. You need to follow my instructions precisely. … What am I to do with you? You are fortunate Coeus is a healer and Rhea soon will be."

With sympathy, Coeus looks down at me then says, "Rhea, attend to him. (He then takes Herazade by the hand pulls her to a standing position.) I wish to consult with Herazade. (Then looking at us he says.) We are NOT to be disturbed."

All three of us watch as they walk hand in hand out of the courtyard.

Gwynn and Rhea exchange knowing glances.

It is Gwynn who speaks first with her hand extended, "I believe you owe me 100 credits."

After an audible sigh, Rhea responds, "This is not an auspicious start to my initiation. First I rip my lucky pants, now this … ugh," examining her clothes Rhea instructs, "Gwynn, please get my bag from the ship."

"Do you need my help carrying him?"

"No, I will be fine."

As Gwynn's long strides carry her away, Rhea opens the container she was carrying, moves her hair out of the way and places the chrysalis carefully on her head. There is a small sucking noise as it seems to settle perfectly onto the back of her head, neck and down her back.

Her eyes cut into me as she says, "How do you feel?" They are peculiarly green.

"I'm fine. I'm very sorry. I'm really really..." I try to get up and stumble against her. She restrains me and lies me back down to the ground.

"It is all right. They were just my favorite pants and most expensive pair of boots. Don't worry, I am just happy I decided to wear boots instead of sandals. Forget about it." She places a hand on my neck, pushing into the junction with my shoulder with the tips of her fingers almost painfully. She stares past me with unfocused eyes for several seconds.

Not removing her hand, she looks at me, smiles and commands in a strange voice, "_**Relax**_. I will take care of everything."

I feel myself float off the ground as all goes to black.

In the next instant my eyes pop open. I am tucked in bed … naked under a blanket. Rhea, no longer wearing her chrysalis or apprentice robe, is sitting reading from a terminal at my littered table, her bare feet are propped up on the table. She is not wearing any pants.

Nervously, I stare at her legs for a while and then pull the blanket up to my chin and ask softly, "How long have I been asleep?"

Her head whips about to look at me while tossing the terminal aside.

Approaching me with a smile, she speaks, "Ahh good you're awake. I was starting to worry. You've been out for 38 minutes. Longer then I intended. Oops. Here drink this, all of it."

She hands me a glass and stands beside the bed. When I hesitate she adds, "It is just water. There is nothing wrong with you apart from the obvious emotional shock. You were slightly dehydrated and should rest some more."

I blurt out, "I'm naked!"

She points at my blanketed form and defensively offers, "Your clothes were … unfit. I assumed you would prefer not to sleep in them. And I could not find anything resembling pajamas when I was ... putting you to bed."

"Oh … I don't have any."

She raises both eyebrows at that.

"That does provide a certain ... convenience. (She pulls up her shirt to reveal loose fitting short shorts.) I hope you don't mind, since we are the same size, I borrowed your shorts."

I correct her, "Those are my underwear."

It is her turn to stupidly say, "Really? ... They look just like ... never mind. Rest, I'll be downstairs, looking for Gwynn."

She heads for the door, but pauses to say over her shoulder with only one eye on me, "I would not worry. It's not a bad size."

I can hear a small chuckle as she leaves me alone.

Throwing my blanket over my head, I scream at myself in disgust, "Arrrgh! A woman finally takes off my clothes and … Smooth Fed. You are the King of the Sexing."

I quickly get up, dress and follow her downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs I can overhear a raised angry voice coming from the foyer. I walk toward the noise but stop well back, close enough to hear but not be noticed.

Angrily Rhea exclaims, "What do you mean you're leaving?! Where could you possibly have to go on this sweltering backwater province?! Let it go. She was testing your reaction Gwynn. Aldous probably put her up to it. And do you blame him after the way you acted?"

Silence. It seems that neither is willing to give ground until, Rhea continues in a more calm and controlled manner, "Besides, you said you would help me review the final version of my illusion. Not to mention YOU should be studying for your assessment tests."

Gwynn answers her coldly, "Didn't you say yesterday, that I'd find the assessments trivial? I NEED to get out of here, with Herazade going on about my mother and Aldous ... I feel ... Look I just need to clear my head. I plan to take a walk into the downtown of the city we passed, and you should give that damn presentation a rest already. It's been ready for weeks and if you make me watch it again, I WILL gouge my eyes out with the nearest fork. I will now give you the advice you would give me if our situations were reversed, just relax. The Order is perpetually short on healers. I suspect you'd have to deliberately murder someone before they'd not initiate you."

"What if Coeus asks about you? I do not relish lying for you."

"I seriously doubt their 'Consultation' will end before tomorrow. Knowing your father, we won't see them for days. I'll be back most likely before he notices and definitely before he cares."

"Do you at least have Proximan credit chits?"

"You do remember who you're talking to right?"

Gwynn turns with a flourish, her black cloak billowing dramatically and walks out the front door while Rhea stares after her, with balled fists.

I walk up closer behind her and speak, "I can help you with any work you need to get done."

She whirls around in surprise. Her anger bubbles over as she yells, "I thought I told you to sleep! I did not ask for YOUR help!"

Calmly, I counter her, "True to both. But one I feel fine and teo you shouldn't take your anger at Gwynn out on me."

She looks unsettled for a second and then looks back at the open door.

She takes a deep breath and says, "Forgive me. The most infuriating thing about Gwynn is that she is right and knows it. I should just try to relax. (She let's out the breath she was holding in and sucks in another larger one.) You don't by any chance have any ice cream and early 20th century vids just sitting around? A glass of something hard would be nice to."

I open my mouth, but before I can answer Herazade's voice booms, "Federico!"

"I'm over here."

She appears only clad only in a full length white robe.

"Prepare the evening meal, the roast I think, pair it with a couple reds from Earth, any bottle covered with dust will do. Decant some of our Limoncello as well. Then have one of your servitors bring it to my quarters."

My eyes flare a bit as I say, "Um… yes madam."

I bow as Herazade leaves quickly.

We both stare at her retreating form and I uncomfortably turn to Rhea. She looks back at me with barely restrained humor in her eyes.

I finally manage to say, "Oh God. I can never un-see that."

Sagely, she speaks, "It is best not to think about it. That way lays madness. If you can't help yourself … just pretend they are playing chess. That always worked for me."

I stare off silently for several beats and mutter, "Wow … you just saved my evening."

She bows slightly toward me and inquisitively asks, "You can cook?"

"Yes. I've done all the cooking for the last year. Herazade started teaching me four years ago. She called it the only true alchemy and said it would increase my charm immeasurably. Are you hungry?"

"Always. … How old are you?"

"I will be 16 in one week exactly."

She smiles approvingly. "Well, I will be 22 in 10 months 8 days, and I'm about to become a real grown up technomage, but I doubt I could prepare a full dinner for six easily. Do you need help?"

I shrug. "No ... I love to cook. I just hate cleaning up. So if you want to help you can do that."

"Huh, I was going for the sous-chef position, but I guess I get to settle for dishwasher."

I grin as I explain, "I'm SUPPOSE to do everything. You can just sit back and keep me company. I'll make the ice cream first, we always have plenty of cream. I believe strongly in eating dessert first. We have all sorts of hard liquor but that stuff is in Herazade's quarters and I'm umm…. sorry I'm not brave enough to go get it. As for the vids, we have a huge library of them. I've been enjoying the dark humor era stuff from the early 21st century, I'm not sure if we have the earliest works but if you don't care for what we have I will pull more from the network. We also have a 4 man VR pod, if you want to simulate it up."

She stares at me quietly for an unnerving amount of time before finally stating decisively, "I believe I'm going to like you Federico."

EOF

---

Galen pulls himself out of entry smiling. Fed wasn't kidding when he said he made a bad first impression, and yet he obviously turned it around. His natural charm asserting itself and clearly winning Rhea over.

Not that he made a good first impression on Galen either. He can still hear Elric's certain and grave voice commanding him…

'_That is Federico. He is Herazade's newly adopted apprentice and a member of your cohort. You WILL introduce yourself to him. Stay with him until he is well situated. (Elric pauses then adds with gravity and a _

_touch of warning.) Choose your words with care for all words have lingering power and once spoken can not be unsaid."_

_Elric's strong arm points Galen's attention to a lone boy. He can see the boy is wearing new apprentice robes. They sit askew his narrow shoulders with some of the hem dragging on the ground. As he kicks a stone around the muddy ground, occasionally he glances at a small group of young apprentices loudly and eagerly socializing nearby._

_Gravely Galen answers, "Yes Sir." _

_He hurries to obey running rapidly toward Federico, who at that exact moment pulls his foot back and kicks the quite dirty rock hard sending it sailing through the air and right into the middle of Galen's chest._

"_Ack!" exclaims Galen more from the small clumps of dirt strewn in his face then any pain._

_When he sees he hit someone Fed yells, "I'm sorry! I didn't see you there. (He runs over as Galen brushes the dirt off his formerly pristine black apprentice robe.) Let me help you. (It does not help.) Damnit. I'm really sorry for ruining your clothes. … You can have mine."_

_He begins pulling off his robe._

_Galen immediately orders, "No! That is not necessary. I have others and can change later."_

_A small relieved smile crosses Fed's face as he stops undressing. He asks, "You're Galen right?"_

_Surprised, Galen carefully asks, "Yes, … how did you know my mage name? I have only told it to Elric."_

_Fed bites his lip as if he was just caught doing something wrong._

"_Um … I don't know about that. I just memorized all the names and pictures in the ID database Herazade had sitting around. I thought I might make a better first impression if I knew peoples names. Instead all that _

_happened was (Fed points so quickly at the other group of apprentices that Galen misses who he meant to point out) Mr. Alphamale declaring 'An idiot savant roams among us!'"_

_Understanding fills Galen, "Ah, that would Elizar. He can be …"_

_Fed completes Galen's sentence,"A biting ass and a half. What's his damage? … Never mind, I'm the new kid and he wanted to make sure I knew my place. (He holds out his hand.) … My name is Federico, but you can call me Fed."_

_Shaking it quickly and dropping it out of discomfort, Galen asks, "Did you really memorize 500 names and likenesses?" _

_Fed shrugs and corrects Galen, "It was more like 506. But ya."_

_Exhausting the one topic Galen thought to discuss, they stare at each other in awkward silence neither knowing what to say to find more common ground. _

_Realizing he should be obeying Elric's intent, he offers, "Come. I will introduce you to those who bite less deeply."_

That was the last sentence Galen spoke to Fed that day. Not because there was no conversation between them, but rather, Fed managed to carry whole conversations with little more then the occasional nod from Galen. Until Galen introduced Fed to Kane and Finian then even nodding was no longer needed. The three of them became instant best friends and remained so even after the Order went into hiding. Fed always went out of his way to draw him into their activities, … never deterred by his continuous lack of success or Galen's excuses. Growing up, Galen had found it annoying but now he can only think of it warmly.

The only other who repeatedly attempted to pry into his life like that is … Dureena, not that they speak anymore. Whenever they are around each other, she silently stares at him, a protective hand on her sword, as if he was the thief and her the technomage. He can not image what it will take to over come the power of his last lingering words to her. The answer comes back at him in Elric's voice, '_You can start with an apology._'

Shaking himself, perhaps it is good there are three days until they reach Earth for he can not seem to avoid falling into nostalgic reveries. Equally bad, he has learned little of real relevance that would help Fed to deal with the current situation. Refocusing, he moves onto the next entry hoping that will change.

//5

---5 - 22.11.2252

Walking down a long stone corridor, I approach a heavy wooden door covered with runes. The only sound is a clickity-clack of metal against stone. When I stop, I look down, behind me at the ground and next to my bare feet is a red robotic spider skillfully balancing a small tray on its back while walking forward.

"Po, you will stop at the door and wait for further instructions."

At the door, I place my hand over the center rune and it begins to glow under my hand.

I whisper, "There is no spoon."

I wait but no answer comes. So I open the door and walk into a dream.

Or so it seems, there's hundreds of tiny long staircases intricately interconnected at different angles. The stairs are covered with all sorts of tiny dancing figures. I begin to make out mushrooms of various sizes covered with eyes and prancing colorful daisies with enormous grinning faces when suddenly it all disappears leaving Rhea standing in the center of the room wearing her chrysalis.

Excited now, I blurt out, "Wow! That was interesting. Sorry to interrupt but you did not respond to my chime. I brought you lunch if you want it."

Radiating a limitless self-assurance, she responds, "Aren't you overly considerate or were you just trying to see what I'm up to?"

"A little of one, a lot of the other. I'll let you decide which. ...Um, I thought an apprentice wasn't allowed to cast spells unless a full mage is present. Not that I care... It's just I'll keep it to myself if it'd get you into trouble with the old..."

My voice trails off as she begins to laugh. Confused, I can not tell if it is at me, at what I said or both.

Stopping to speak, she explains, "Yes the Order has a great many rules. That one has some latitude, … at least according to my father. Coeus hasn't bothered to be with me unless I requested his presence for the last two months."

Pointing around her to where the illusion was, I ask, "What was that? I thought you were a healer, shouldn't your presentation be, you know, medical in nature?"

"What you mean like dissecting a liver in an unusual way or reattaching a severed head?"

"You can reattach a severed head?!"

Rhea adopts a lopsided smile.

"Literally yes, but if you actually want them alive afterwards, no. It can be whatever I want as long as I display some spell mastery and it reflects my … talents. I fancy myself, first and foremost, a connoisseur of culture. But like my father, I plan to become a dedicated healer for the Order and a true coercer. I will be the fifth generation of my family to serve the Order in this way."

"What's a true coercer?"

She looks puzzled, "You do not know?"

I shrug and try to make an excuse, "Herazade told me not to worry about studying the spell stuff until I build my spell language and that's not till I get a chrysalis. Aren't the 14 words a coercive spell?"

She answers, "Yes, the 14 words to make someone fall in love is actually one of the simplest and best understood coercive spells. It works by flooding the brain stem with oxytocin while the subject is thinking of their future object of affection. There are others that almost any technomage can learn, sleep inducement, the command voice etc. But a true coercer, well, I'll put it this way, there are some of us with additional talent who can cast certain, advanced spells. The Centauri technomages enthusiastically call it 'spirit oppression.' It is not telepathic coercion instead it works ...actually no one knows how those spells really work but I have some guesses based on the fact that they work best with physical contact."

"So you can make anyone do anything?"

She raises an eyebrow at me. "A particularly trained mage can train fight off such spells or a strong telepath can resist it. But YOU, I could easily coerce anytime."

"Really?! What does it feel like?"

Still as a statue, she says nothing. Then abruptly she walks over to a workbench and picks out some small gears. She approaches me with the gears in her palm and deliberately grasps my wrist.

The next thing I hear is her say, "_**Stop**_."

I taste metal and suddenly realize that my mouth is full. I spit gears out and look at her wicked smile.

"How did ...? I have no memory of …"

Her erupting into a full-throated laugh halts my stuttering.

"I can't believe how easy that was. I have only tried that on Gwynn and she fights me tooth and nail. I can barely drag her under. That was fun."

She claps for herself and I smile at her.

"Fun for YOU. Will I be able to do that?"

Looking and sounding unrepentant, "You will be taught a great many things. Your natural talents will determine what you can do well. But all technomages must learn how to manipulate perceptions of sentients in some way or another."

"Here's hoping I don't disappoint. My line ... I feel a lot less ... noble I guess. Herazade found me working for a stim smuggler at a recycler. I still don't understand what your illusion meant. May I see it all?"

She looks uncommitted.

"Anyone can see it at the convocation if they wish, but I will tell you it is how I see the mind and its progression from a chaotic state to an ordered one. Okay that's enough. I'm beginning to bore even myself, also I'm suddenly starving, you mentioned a lunch?"

"Hold on."

I head to the door and open it.

"Po come in. Serve secondary occupant."

"Have you heard from your sister?"

She retrieves the tray from the back of the spider. After she stands up, she looks at me confused.

"Do you mean Gwynn?"

"Yes."

"No I have not, nor am I really surprised and she is not my biological sister," she adds with a distinct annoyance.

Excitedly I ask, "Is she adopted to?"

"No, well actually sort of. My father took care of her mother, Myrenda, when she was ill. Coeus volunteered to complete her apprenticeship after she died. That was a few years ago. She was … it was difficult at first but I suppose our relationship resembles that of siblings. We certainly argue like sisters. Of course, it's turning out that she excels at everything but healing, though my father suspects she will also be a true coercer. That's part of why he was eager to help complete her apprenticeship."

She fixes me with a piercing and unblinking stare.

Getting the hint I say, "I suppose I should go now."

She says only, "Yes."

EOF

---

Galen lets out a hard, unhappy breath. A true coercer. Galen knows exactly what that means for he is one himself. Rhea was correct, coercion, really manipulation in all its forms, is THE thing technomages excel at. The Shadows were the true masters of it. So of course they made sure the technomages had such abilities.

It has been years since Galen's thought of his spell research. He has been so profoundly busy that he has had to leave all his research for when the universe is no longer conspiring to keep him miserably occupied.

He had devoted much of his time while living in the hiding place to trying to discover the seven root spells at the base of all technomage spells. He discovered and used four of them. The first that shocked so many before his initiation and is the basis of all offensive spells was Galen's spell of destruction. The second was the basis of all their communication spells. That one enabled him to listen in on the Shadows communications years ago when the Order was fleeing before the Shadow war.

The third involved the base shielding spell which offers near perfect protection and concealment. An invaluable spell, thinks Galen, when he manages to cast it in time. He ruefully touches his shoulder where Dureena impaled her knife.

The fourth was at the root of the spells of association or the merging directly with technology. That base spell enabled Galen to become one with his tech.

The next two, the ability to create illusions with substance and the mastery over movement with their platforms, Galen has had too little interest or time to pursue.

Which leaves one last base spell, the basis of the spell family that is the most Shadow like, the root of their spells of coercion. He can clearly see the base spell for coercion in his mind but he dare not cast it. He is certain it will completely enthrall whoever is unlucky enough to be its victim. It would leave their intellect intact but would strip them completely of their free will, a permanent slave for Galen to use as he wished.

The Shadows had turned many sentients, Anna Sheridan chief among them, into a sort of thrall, an eager, willing, and permanant puppet. Galen likes to think he will never use the base coercion spell but then again he never thought he'd use the 14 words to make someone fall in love forever. Regrettably, it is a spell Galen has used, once. He did at Vir's request. It gave Vir a 'tool,' to help him wrestle control of Centauri Prime away from the Drakh. Galen did it for the 'greatest good' but it was the most disgusting thing he has had to do in recent memory and still wishes he could have found another way. His head drops down to stare at Fed's sphere in his hand.

What is most disturbing about Rhea, was she blithely coerced Fed with barely a second thought. Elric never allowed him to practice coercive spells as an apprentice. His explanation was they were too dangerous for a chrysalis staged mage. Nor did he allow Galen to use his chrysalis unsupervised going so far as to lock it away. Taken together Rhea's behavior, and that of her Master, screams arrogance and willful carelessness, but those are two traits all to common among his Order.

The question is how strong of a true coercer was she. Galen makes a mental note to discuss just exactly how strong her abilities were with Gwynn, soon. He moves on to the next entry.

//6//

(Fed's voice comes on and simply states.)

Only one word comes to mind to describe this night, AWKWARD.

- 22.11.2252

Rhea loudly declares, "Technically, it is NOT necrophilia if they are the UNdead." Her long hair hangs loose and sits rowdily on her head obscuring some of her face.

The room is dark except for a large screen displaying a frozen image of an animated corpse biting into the head of a very unhappy looking man. The eerie glow of the screen illuminates the room. The walls are completely

covered with colorful tapestries of complex geometric fractals, a few antique books and classically styled but overly colorful landscapes. The table in front of the screen is covered with half empty dishes.

I am lounging on an incredibly large comfortable red sofa with my bare feet propped up on a step stool and am adamantly shaking my head no.

I argue back, "That's a trivial technicality. The spirit of what you said I think was very clear - you prefer your men, tall, dark and dead."

"All I said was 'He's cuter as an undead.' It's not my fault your mind jumped to a perverted conclusion. And there is nothing wrong with being technically correct. It is the best sort of correct," exclaims Rhea haughtily.

Dejectedly, I sag back against the couch. "You're stringing me along, aren't you?"

She laughs at me until we are both carried along by it and says with a grin, "Thank you for taking the bait. I really enjoyed it … unlike this vid. I'll have to remember to avoid anything with the phrase 'of the dead' in its title."

Quickly turning serious, I stop laughing and my grin disappears. I begin to stare at her, not even breathing. Noticing she stops laughing, and stares back looking confused at first, them with slow dawning realization. Smoothly, I lean toward her face intent on her lips, but am stopped by a firm hand planted in the middle of my chest and the panicked expression on her face.

Out of the darkness a voice says with startling effect, "Well aren't you two all chummy."

Rhea vaults to her feet, and faces the darkness.

"Enjoy your walk Gwynn? Let's see it's been … almost 36 hours"

Gwynn steps out of the shadows and into the illumination of the screen. She appears to be wearing a police uniform while endlessly twirling some sort of badge in her right hand.

"Immensely, New Alhambra has a certain charm all its own. (She looks away dreamily for a second before her attention snaps back onto me. Her smile vanishes into an icy, judging stare.) Where are we sleeping?"

At this I stand.

"I'll go prepare your rooms now."

As I walk away I hear Gwynn whisper, "Did he say rooms? Whose bed did you sleep in last night?!"

I stop just outside the room, out of sight and listen.

"I ... fell asleep here, watching vids. Forget this, why are you wearing a police uniform?"

"A souvenir. No, let's not 'forget this.' Even in this light he looked flushed. Please tell me you weren't about to commence his 'initiation.'"

Rhea sputters, "Of course not!"

Her voice all disapproval, Gwynn lectures, "Really? You should keep in mind that the age of consent on Proxima is 16. He doesn't look near it. "

The defensive response is immediate.

"He will be 16 in week and it doesn't matter! I am the victim here! … Wait, why in the world would you know what the age of consent is on Proxima? … Look, he misinterpreted my kindness for … interest. Loneliness and curiosity emanate out of him so strongly that I missed the signs. And apparently he's the assertive sort. Don't worry I know how to shut him down."

Gwynn continues to push, "If you speak to him again about anything, he's just going to take that as encouragement. You should just cut him off."

"Oh you are now an expert on men then? Correct me if I'm wrong but don't you have the dating history of a moderately excitable Victorian dowager. Have you even been deflowered yet?"

A long silence punctuated at the end by a distinctly wry laugh from Gwynn, who crisply answers, "I would rather keep my own council on that front. Look take my advice or not, it was offered in your benefit."

"I know, but the one thing I remember from 15 going on 16 was that I desperately wanted to be taken seriously. Hopefully, he's mature enough to hear the reasons for my lack of interest. … Oh don't look at me that way! … Fine you win, IF he is unreasonable, I will cut him off."

Disappointed, I leave and bound up a flight of stairs two at a time, at the top of the stairs sits the red robotic spider.

"Po, unlock bedrooms 3 and 4. Synch environmental settings with master. Stock them each with a complete set of linens. Hook the terminals up to the network "

The robot scurries off down the hallway.

I hurry back down and eavesdrop again to overhear Gwynn say, "Yes, before we left he wanted me to read some of his research, but he was really vague about what he wanted me to do."

"He's just feeling you out to see if you'd be interested in helping us with backwards engineering the suit. You know neither one of us is good at that sort of thing."

I walk in then. Rhea looks at me without smiling and orders, "Fed, show Gwynn to her room then come back down here, please."

A feeling of dread washes over me but I manage to mutter, "Sure."

Silently, I lead Gwynn away with stalking behind me. We enter a room.

"The terminal is unlocked and we have an always on, realtime connection to EarthNet. Rhea is in the room to your right and I am across the hallway should you need anything."

She stares at me with a withering expression.

Her voice suddenly sultry, she says, "You mean like in the middle of the night, if I get LONELY?"

She draws out the last word as if it was a song lyric. I give her a strained smile and then start to leave.

"Federico." Her voice is now cold and crisp.

I stop at the door and nervously ask, "Yes?"

"Leave her alone. You are too young for her. Do you understand?"

"What?... Why did you just say that?"

"You're about to be on the receiving end of a convoluted and numbingly clinical lecture. I thought I'd save you the trouble of trying to puzzle it through. Now I'm exhausted, go away." She waves her hand as if batting away an insect.

I close the door behind me and stand there for a minute slowly taking in what she said. Then I head back rapidly taking the stairs two at a time.

Rhea is examining a tapestry when I enter.

"Ahh, there you are. Have a seat."

I sit on the sofa and she sits opposite me but well away on the step stool.

"Fed, I think you are charming, witty and quite a cook. Your company has been a real pleasure. But sometimes as we mature out of adolescence we develop certain inappropriate feelings which stem from the rapidly ..."

"Please stop. (She looks surprised then suspicious but remains silent fixing me with a stare.) ... I ... know what you are

about to say and I understand. I won't lie, I think you're beautiful, smart, fun and ... I don't plan to make a fool of myself again. I know when to bide my time."

She let's out a sigh and frowns. We are silent for several painful seconds.

"This is not what I had in mind but I had better leave it alone."

She stands then continues, "Tomorrow, I will spend my time alone or with Gwynn. I don't need anything brought to me, I'll just... forage off the land. (I stand.) Oh NO! Stay there, I'll figure it out. Good night Fed."

She walks away. I let out a slow heavy breath as I watch her retreating form. The moment she is out of sight Aldous decloaks beside me causing me to jump in shock.

He speaks first, "I have a new respect for you Fed, at your age I would never have had the courage to try and kiss a woman like that.

It is one of evolution's cruelest little jokes that just as we reach sexual maturity, handsome women find us repulsive and pitiful, well the sane ones anyway."

I turn away feeling my face burn.

"I see I've embarrassed you. Well one advantage to learning you have a terminal disease is you don't give a crap anymore about social niceties or sparing others feelings."

"Mierde, does everyone get to see me make a fool out of myself."

He chuckles as he answers, "I think I'm the last one. You should be careful when you easedrop like that. Those words were not meant for you. You need to be prepared to hear the worst about yourself from another."

I stare into the darkness around us as I quietly answer, "I had to know."

He pats me on the back, causing me to look in his grinning face.

"I don't disapprove. Such behavior is how I know you will make an excellent technomage."

"Umm how much did you see?"

"Obviously, I caught the exciting conclusion. It was almost an absurdist farce. You two put on an entertaining show."

Pleading with him, I beg, "Please don't tell Hera!"

"Certainly not. I am not cruel. Hera might be a liberal master, but perhaps some advice man to man is order. Here is the sum total of my accumulated wisdom for you in this situation, give up. At least practice on something smaller than a Titan."

I protest, "But … what if I don't want to give up? You know women right. What do I, I mean how would you …?"

He interrupts me, "No! I will not play a sort of Cyrano."

"Please?"

"You're clever. You'll figure it out."

"Oh come on! At least give me a hint."

He stares at me sternly and the stand off continues for a good long time.

I give up first and blurt out, "I can't believe you're going to ... I mean I'm sorry that... I don't even know what to say... ," my voice trails off into uncertainty.

He pulls me into a tight embrace and says in my ear, "Stop. I will not have it. If you get to be my age it means you win at the game of life. My only regret is I won't get to see how your life turns out first hand. All I ask is you honor my memory. Obey your master better. Build up the Order and guard it with your life because it is your life."

He lets me go as we are both near tears. Despite that, I half jokingly respond, "I can do that. But ... you know, maybe I could do it better if I knew how to get the girl to."

Sighing, he says through a grin, "You win. I'll say this, in my experience if you can make them laugh that is half the battle won. But she has clearly decided against you. Respect that. But then again, that does not mean you can not lay siege to the city. It took the Greeks ten years to conquer Troy. Perhaps you'll have better luck, but you might want pace yourself."

I exclaim, "Ten years?! What do you mean lay siege? Wait, didn't the Greeks destroy Troy?"

He waves a dismissive hand, explaining, "I mean the gentle, a satellite in her orbit, friendly sort of siege. In the mean time you'll survive, masturbation is your friend but take my advice, use a light touch and learn complete control now, you'll thank me later."

His face is all innocent smiles while mine burns with waves of mortification.

"Now that I've no dignity left can I slink off to my room, please?" I plead.

I am so engrossed that I do not notice Herazade walk in until she addresses me.

"Exactly why would you have no dignity left?"

Thankfully, she is fully dressed. I am too shocked to speak and so just stare at her stupidly.

Aldous leans over and whispers in my ear, "Courage lad. Once more into the breach."

EOF

---

Everything abruptly ends. Good lord Galen thought. He never realized how much of a little spy Fed was. It is not entirely surprising. Fed did always seem to enjoy collecting and spreading gossip when they were apprentices, but it had never occurred to Galen that he would so actively eavesdrop on conversations. Galen makes a mental note to assume no conversation is private when Fed is anywhere close by.

Otherwise, the only interesting thing he learned is that Rhea completely rejected Fed. Of course that did not deter him, quite the opposite in fact. He moves on, oblivious to what is happening on the Excalibur.

**Recreation Room 1- Aboard the Excalibur December 23, 2269 - Racing with the cure back to Earth.**

Without any music the party rolls along at a dull roar. Tired of dancing, Max and Dureena have seated themselves at the last empty table right by the makeshift bar. Max gently nurses a drink in one hand and a portable terminal in the other, waiting for Dureena to answer him.

"Why?" She demands with a distrustful edge to more than just her words.

Max snorts out an arrogant laugh as he knowingly observes, "While I firmly believe, 'No good deed should go unpunished,' ... you saved THE thing I hold most dear, ... my life. It's not the sort of thing one forgets."

Dureena leans back into her chair relaxed now.

"Then this is your way of thanking me despite acting like nothing had happened. You should know I did it by instinct, had I thought about it..."

She smiles at the implication, while Max cuts in impatiently, "Are you going to accept or not?"

Slowly shaking her head yes. "As fun as stealing a shuttle would be, instead, yes, I accept."

"Good. One chartered freighter to Theta 49 coming up. I'll make sure its holds are filled with goodies for ... (Max pauses seemingly stumped.) I don't even know what your people are called?"

"The Mayurin, it means simply 'the keepers' in my language. But now you are being suspiciously generous again."

"Hardly, I won't spend a penny of my own money for any of this. I come from one of the finest and oldest families of Mars. So of course, I know all the best families. I know exactly who uses money to pretend they care enough to help those unfortunate, disadvantaged ...," he abruptly stops becoming unusually self-conscious. Dureena knowingly offers a word that completes his sentence, "Savages."

After a brief pause Max gallantly offers, "Say what you will about me, at least I know enough not to call you that. I was surprised you let Galen return to the Excalibur without a couple knives sticking out of him."

Max seems to be about to laugh at his own joke but stops himself when he sees Dureena's reaction, severe.

Dureena thinks about the last month. It seems to have lasted for years. It has been all confusion and turmoil, with HIM at the center.

_**One month before the cure was found.**_

_Dureena boarded the tram and took her usual seat opposite Galen. He sat in his usual spot near the window staring out, expression grim, body slightly tense._

_In advance, she decided to ask him a question simple enough that perhaps he would give an answer. When she felt ready, she spoke, "Why do you ride these endless circuits?"_

_Steely blue eyes turned to Dureena, his answering tone as imperious as ever, "Why? …Why this is the natural state of Man, of course. Running in pointless circles. Endlessly repeating."_

_She digested his smooth and practiced answer and countered, "If that were true shouldn't this train be packed? No, I think it is just your natural state."_

_Surprised eyebrows animated his brow and when he answered, his tone was all amusement. Dureena wondered if it was because she challenged him._

_He answered, "Perhaps … but since you are sitting here, it is more correct to say it is OUR natural state. … Are you about to ask me to take you on as an apprentice, again?"_

_That question took her aback. Yes she had originally started keeping him company to press her suit, but quickly it had morphed into companionship. His opening up to her, however slightly, pleased and comforted her more then she cared to admit. Truth be told it had been days since she even thought of asking. She chose to answer him honestly,_

"_No. I hadn't thought to ask. I think ... I will wait until there is chance you will say yes." _

_Dureena looked away out the window of the moving tram, embarrassed for giving such a weak and frank answer. And truth be told to hide her reaction. As always, she was sure he could see right through her. Yes, she wanted his secrets to punish the Drakh for destroying her world. That is what she tells herself and Galen or anyone who asks, but under that her true motivation. Instantly, every sense in her body was overwhelmed by hatred and the need for revenge, against those who enjoyed murdering Jouric and poor cowardly Muri. All while she was forced to helplessly look on. Then afterwards … there was no savior, no justice and another year to endure before she escaped. She swore never to allow herself to be so powerless again._

_Thrusting away the feelings, she regained some sense of control, enough anyway to look back into Galen's eyes. Her breath caught. All thoughts of anything bad fell out of mind, because instead of the usual exasperation, all she saw was concern and sympathy. Her heart leapt toward him then as they stared at each other. She had wanted that moment to go on and on, but some awkwardness seemed to overwhelm him. He broke off, looked toward the floor, and shifted his weight crossing his legs stiffly. She continued to stare at his profile. _

_Whatever spell was on her broke when he spoke, "An improvement." He turned to look back out the window, but with a frown tugging the corner of his lip. _

_He continued speaking at the window, "You should know I have decided never to take you on as an apprentice."_

_Shocked, every part of her wanted to demand, 'Why?!' Was this a test? Was it his real and final decision? She could not be sure and so she stayed quiet. Showing her anger would only prove his point that she was somehow unworthy. She continued to sit there, stop after stop, with eyes digging holes into him, and a hand hovering near one of the many knives she always had on her person._

_As the first wave of fury subsided, she began to study him, giving her instincts full reign. They told her two things that she had missed till that moment. One, at least part of his discomfort with her was that he was effected by her, the way she 'effected' too many of the males about her. Two, for once, this was not unwelcomed to her. Although clearly, it was unwelcomed by him. Was that the answer to her silent why? For a moment, she ruefully thought about her life in the Thieves guild. While a vast improvement over life as a slave, she had to trade too many of her nights for the knowledge she needed to join them. She compromised once. Could it be so simple that he would never compromise, and so can not accept her … tainted past? How could he even know? She had no idea, but she would not be ashamed of doing what she had to survive, and prosper in the guild. The tram halted at the docking bay stop. Galen stood and silently headed for the exit, mightily ignoring her. Dureena instantly decided, she would not give up. _

"_Wait," she said. _

_He stopped at the door gripping the bars with his hands till his knuckles turned white as she finished speaking, "I will be here tomorrow, anyway."_

_Something between a laugh and cry burst out of him, making her look up at him in surprise. _

_His sharp gaze and tone burned at her as he spoke, "Not giving up then?"_

_A flash of Jouric smiling and dancing went through Dureena's mind as she answered, "No." silently adding, 'Not any more.'_

_He swept out of the tram. Part of her had wanted to follow him and MAKE him speak to her about why, but she did not. As of that moment she was confounded by the feelings he had stirred up. The next day she was there and the day after, but he never came again._

Dureena comes back to the present celebration. Absentmindedly, she strokes the small triangular sword inside its sheath on her waist. As always her fingers tingle slightly and turn cold. It is her sword, a large knife really. Two rounded blades pointed toward each other, fused at the tip, a handle completing the triangular effect, all a blue–gray metal. Sharp, cold, silent, deadly, reassuring, and dependable. For years, knives were the only things she trusted. That was until he entered her dreams … Galen, the living knife.

Whenever he sees fit to, he can cut into her more deeply then anyone she has ever known, the most recent is the most painful. It was like he held up a mirror and showed her what she really was. Not that she was afraid to see, it was just that he caught her completely unguarded. It seemed that once again, he just needed the right reaction of her. But this time it was not to make her weep, it was to … she is not sure, shock her perhaps.

Why did he have to say … no it was no use dwelling on the past. Who knows why he says anything?! That man is utterly frustrating and confusing. When it comes to Galen there is nothing but whys?! Why would he fight to destroy the Shadows technology when he's filled with it literally? Why did he want the sword so desperately only to give it back to her, like an act of charity? Most importantly, why did he choose her in the first place? He never explained himself. Never does. The few times he does speak, it is in suitably vague, wise-seeming utterances that contain little in the way of real information.

Silently, she curses, 'Damn it!' She slams her fist against her thigh. Here she is once again obsessively thinking about HIM. She silently swears she is done trying to pry explanations out of him. At the same time she knows she would eagerly listen if he offered to explain himself. Dureena chastises herself for trying to get close to a technomage. Only fools try to enter their shadow-soaked world. She should stop thinking about him. Yes, that is it. Just forget him, focus on getting back to Theta 49 and helping what is left of her people. The small voice in the back of her mind reminds her, easier said then done.

Max brings her back into the conversation with a quiet question, "Are you going to forgive him?"

"There was nothing to forgive. He did not say anything that was not perfectly true."

Max says with a conviction that speaks of experience, "From a woman that usually means no. Not that I'm complaining that leaves you free for the rest of us."

Quickly annoyed that he managed to read her inclination, she says, "Max ..."

He stops her with a wave, "Don't worry I won't breath a word of it to anyone and (he indicates between them) if I thought for a moment you'd say 'maybe,' I would have already invited you to see my collection of Pak'Ma'Ra mating stones."

Genuinely amused Dureena sums up her feelings toward him, "I'm glad to see you are still an ass at heart. I'm going to get something to eat."

She walks away from the table to Max's snide comments, "I'd avoid everything but the fruit if I were you."

**Excalibur Bridge - December 23, 2269**

Gideon sits hunched over a small display attached to the captain's chair, reviewing the Drakh fleet telemetry data for the tenth time.

Walking up to him, Lt. Matheson reports, "Both EarthForce and the IA command have acknowledged your report sir. (Not looking up, Gideon grunts a vaguely affirmative response.) ... Find anything new sir?"

"There is always something new Lieutenant. For example, I just noticed their speed. They weren't exactly going all out trying to catch us. Only after they were redirected did they go to full throttle."

"Are you saying they were shadowing us?"

"Not exactly, they were closing in, but slower then I would expect."

"Why would they do that?"

"Good question."

Matheson stands expecting him to continue but Gideon says nothing more.

Finally Lt. Matheson asks, "Care to let us lesser mortals in on the secret?"

"I promise you'll be the first as soon as I figure out what the hell is going on."

A touch of worry enters Matheson's voice, "I'll feel a lot better when the White Stars show up."

Gideon grunts in agreement and inquires, "Have there been any … unexplained fogs, holo-creatures flying about, or system security breaches?"

"No sir. … Actually, there was a frozen door lock on observation room 1. I sent a repair team, but when they got there it was behaving normally."

I dry gruff laugh comes out of Gideon. "I think we can live without one of our ob. rooms."

"Are you expecting trouble from the other technomage?"

Gideon shrugs uncertainly. He knows Galen and, despite their clashes, he trusts him, but this Federico? He is Galen's friend and that in of it by itself is enough to show Fed some curtsey. Then there is the fact that he did risk his life to misdirect the Drakh, for which Gideon is grateful. That fight would have been ugly. It's uncertain whether they would have survived. Gideon looks down again at the terminal displaying the Drakh fleet and watches them slowly move away tangentially from the Excalibur. Does he trust Fed? … That remains to be seen.

The real troubling issue is how surprised and concerned Galen was with Fed's arrival. Gideon hates it when Galen seems unsettled. It's NEVER good. His brow furls apprehensively.

Turning to Lt. Matteson, Gideon adds an order, "We need to stay on our toes. Double the marine guards on all vital areas. Let's go to battle ready stations and I want every gun issued to the crew starting with officers, NCOs and specialists down."

"Including the senior staff?"

"Yes. I'll use one of my own."

"Should I have someone bring one to you sir?"

"No, I'll get it myself. I doubt this is the last we've heard of the Drakh. They can't be this easy to fool."

Looking now equally worried, Matheson returns to his duties. While Gideon immediately goes back to studying the

Drakh fleets movements trying to ring every last bit of information out of it.

**Mars - Syria Planum - Conference Room of Top Secret Research EarthForce Facility - December 23, 2269**

A large table is occupied by two men, both pushing the end of middle-age. They are facing a large tactical display on the wall. It shows the very report Captain Gideon just submitted to EarthForce. The man speaking is in uniform. A rank of General shines brightly on his lapels. His chest is unadorned now, but if he was wearing a full dress uniform it would be covered with over a dozen ribbons, most earned painfully during the Earth-Minbari war. The other is simply dressed, gray slacks, a collared tan shirt and a warm yellow, buttoned sweater. A cup of tea sits on the table in front of him. His mustache and hair are going gray and his face seems etched with a warm expression that any child would want on their grandfather, except for the eyes. They shine with an arrogant certainty few manage to acquire.

The General finishes speaking "… Hubert went over their doctor's report. It's not as effective as what we have but it appears to deactivate the virus and make it non-contagious. It should work as a cure. And as you can see, (he points at the screen), it now looks like they will avoid the Drakh."

The mustache of the other man moves about in annoyance as the warm expression vanishes and is replaced by instant anger, "I can not believe that damn gambler pulled it off and years early to boot. We have got to recruit him!"

An incredulous look runs across the General's face for a moment before he answers, "You've got to be kidding. He killed Colonel Remil."

The other man laughs slightly in response before speaking, "No, that was that damn technomage, Galen. Now, THAT one, we should kill at first sight."

The General says with some apprehension, "Our contact aboard says there is another technomage. He was able to tight beam these."

Two blurry images from the Excalibur docking bay appear side by side on the large screen; one of a technomage ship clearly showing Fed's symbol and the other a fuzzy shot of three figures talking.

The old man's only response is to study the images.

The General asks nervously, "Is this a problem?"

He shrugs, "I'm not sure."

The General looks to him for instruction. "What should we do?"

"Why contact our associates on Centauri Prime of course and let them know they are being played for fools. And move up the council meeting."

The General looks dubious as he disagrees, "The Minbari have already dispatched the Star Riders to intercept. Why not let them take care of the lizard heads? The original point of all this plague crap was to take the f'ing bone-heads out of the game, yes? At least this way a few of them will finally die. And besides it's not like the Drakh will trust our word any more."

The old man reassures the soldier, "Now, now general, you need to keep your eye on the big picture. We'll show them all what humanity is capable of. The Minbari will wind up under our heels before you know it. Senator McQuate says he needs until the next election cycle to build the coalition. It is our job to give him that time. As for the Drakh, they won't trust us but they will use the information anyway like the good little servants they've always been. I'll come up with a contingency in case they fail us."

The General leans back in his chair, hesitating.

The old man does not take that hesitation well. He asks with a sudden impatience, "Am I going to need to go through Mr. Jones's channels?"

"No. I just hate losing more of my people!"

The warm gentle expression returns as he reassures the General, "This 'cure' can not make it back to Earth, and if it will not allow itself to be captured, the Excalibur must be destroyed."

The General merely nods once, stands and strides from the room. When the door closes behind him two figures appear out of nowhere flanking the seated old man on each side. The one on the left is a very young man dressed in a black suit with an innocent face. He has a disinterested blank expression as if he is listening to another conversation that he is also disinterested in. The second is a tall lithe blonde in a blouse and a short skirt that is actively straining the bonds of societal modesty. The woman places a hand on one of the old man's shoulders and bends over till her chin practically rests on the other shoulder.

She coyly whispers, "Please let me have Galen before you kill him. I need to thank him properly for saving my life on Z'Ha'Dum."

The man shakes his head at that for a while before announcing, "A hero never does know when to quit. No, he has proven to be … troublesome."

She withdraws her attentions to his shoulders and quickly twirls and plants her rear against the table, jutting out her chin, pouting.

"You're no fun Justin."

Justin shrugs and sits quietly contemplating. Finally he says, "Take off your blouse and turn around."

The blonde's eyebrows arch with curiosity, "Oh my, I didn't think you were the sort to sexually harass his underlings. And in front of Mr. Alpha no less," she begins to comply as she continues, "You know you should watch out, he's the jealous type."

She braces herself against the table revealing her back to him. Two dark channels of what appear to be large dark bruises run along either side of her spine. They stretch down disappearing below her waist, and up to her neck, across her shoulder blades, tapering off into the backs of her arms near her elbows. He gently prods them with his fingers examining the length of her back for several minutes.

Seemingly satisfied he asks, "How do you feel?"

The woman practically purrs as she answers, "I thought being a P12 felt powerful. I feel indestructible…"

Justin interrupts her, "Show me something, both of you."

The woman pulls her blouse back on and seems to consider how to fulfill his request as she buttons her shirt. The young man blinks and seems to come to himself. He puts out a palm and a small fiery ball forms but it quickly dies down and vanishes. The woman holds out her hand over the mug on the table. It lifts up, wobbling off the table for a few seconds before dropping suddenly back down with a crash, spilling some tea on the table.

Furious, Justin stands and spits out, "Pathetic. You haven't been practicing, have you?!"

The other two seem unconcerned at his outburst.

Mr. Alpha says, "It's not exactly easy. Plus, I'm finding it hard to concentrate." He winks at the blonde, who smiles back at him as she offers her excuse, "Actually, we've been 'practicing' all morning."

The old man loses all patience. His hands lash out and grab each one by the throat.

"I will make it very easy for you both. If you two do not improve rapidly, I will personally rip out your implants as painfully as possible."

As he speaks, they both struggle uselessly against his deathly grip, by attempting to pierce the old man's mind with telepathic strikes. But they are as effective as twigs striking a steel door.

Justin continues speaking, "I need to be able to rely on you two, particularly as the new agents come online in the coming months," They both begin to turn red but Justin keeps his hold, "You will help train and lead them, but you are not irreplaceable. If you do not behave and obey me perfectly, I will find more grateful recipients."

Just as they begin to pass out, he lets go. The man collapses on all fours panting. The woman lands against the table cradling her throat.

Incredulous, she hoarsely demands, "How the hell did you block me?"

Justin condescendingly answers, "My dear Bunny, I served the Shadows for decades. Do you honestly think they'd leave me defenseless against your Vorlonish mind tricks? Now get up, we're moving up our plans. You're going to move the primary seeder as soon as possible to our back-up facilities. Gather the betas and put them in charge of guarding the secondary seeder, we're leaving that here in the primary's place. When you are done with that, you will spend ALL your time practicing until you are SO exhausted, you collapse where you stand."

Mr. Alpha is the first to rise to his feet. He asks Justin, "Why bother? That's A LOT of work."

Shakily standing up the woman answers first, "The other technomage?"

"Very good my dear. A second one showing up suddenly and our plans being disrupted... I don't believe in coincidences. They might have crawled out of whatever hole they've been hiding in for the last dozen years. We must be prepared. I want you with me at the next council. I plan to introduce you," He points to the woman and cryptically continues, "I've been negligent. It's been too long since the last loyalty scans. You will scan everyone. Go as deep as you need to. And you (he points to the young man aggressively) will take care of any 'failures.' No negotiations. No explanations. No hesitation. I've learned my lesson after Sheridan. Just kill them."

The young man speaks, "No problem."

Bunny also agrees readily saying, "Fine but don't expect me to humor those fossils. I won't be gentle. I don't believe in your xenophobic bullshit."

Justin relaxes as he answers, "I don't either, my dear. In many ways, the average alien is superior to the average human. But what we lack physically and intellectually, we more then make up for with clever ambition. Besides our weaknesses are not something a little bioengineering can not fix. Now run along you two and do as you are told." He dismisses them with a genteel wave of his hand and they comply quickly.

He gently sighs, shaking his head disappointedly. "Kids today."


	7. Give Us a Show Then

Author's note: I once heard that an aspiring writer needs to write a million bad words before they can write anything good. Here are 10000+ more words for me to throw on my writing pyre.

The Crusade plot is concentrated at the beginning. The rest of this chapter is my take on what a technomage party would be like, something sorely missing from the technomage trilogy of books. It is occasionally funny, coarse and pre-meditatively unromantic and skirts up against the mature rating.

**Chapter 6 - Give Us a Show Then**

**Bridge of the Excalibur – December 23, 2269**

Lt. John Matheson walked up behind Captain Gideon as he sat in the Captain's chair and stood there quietly debating whether or not to speak.

"What is it John?" asked the Captain.

The decision having been made for him, he took a deep breath and quietly began, "With all due respect, even with all that has happened, you've been on duty for 16 hours straight. You look exhausted. You've been pushing yourself too hard for weeks. You should take a break... Sir."

Gideon stared past him at the screens displaying hyperspace rushing by. He rubbed the stubble on his chin trying to remember when he last shaved or showered for that matter. Admitting he had a point, Gideon answered, "We're so close John ... but you're right."

Suddenly putting his hand to his ear, Lt. Matheson interrupted the Captain, "Sir, a gold channel message is coming in from EarthForce. Your eyes only."

"Patch it through to my quarters. I'll be there in a minute."

Gideon rushed from the bridge to his quarters. And there, surprising the Captain, despite all the times Galen let himself into Gideon's quarters uninvited, having made himself quite at home, was Fed. He sat with his feet propped up on Gideon's desk, dexterously shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. All the screens were displaying various entries in Gideon's personal logs.

Fed sang out at him, " 'O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done.'"*

Gideon nearly shouted, "I don't know what sort of game you're playing here but I have to take an important message. Get Out!" He pointed out the open door for emphasis.

Not moving, Fed coyly answered, "Ya … about that … the message is from me, I wanted to have a private little chat."

The doors closed behind him as Gideon strode over to the nearest screen. "Display gold channel message."

A sleigh being pulled by reindeer flew all over the screen. A jolly fat man in the red suit constantly proclaimed, 'HOHOHO, Merry Christmas!' When the screen cleared, the message 'Season's Greetings! Love Fed' appeared.

Furious, Gideon wheeled about. "Out of my chair! What the hell do you want?"

With a self-satisfied chuckle, Fed stood up. Ignoring Gideon, he began silently walking around the room, occasionally poking at an object, all while holding onto the deck. Gideon sat at his desk. He quickly pulled open the lowest drawer and silently slipped out the small PPG stored there. He held it in his lap out of sight. When Fed finished his preambulation about the room, he stopped in front of the desk, opposite Gideon, a grin plastered on his face.

Casually Fed started, "I want Galen. I need his help but he won't come with me because you have ... some kind of hold on him."

"Last time I checked, Galen does what he wants. If he wants to stay then I guess you're out of luck."

Fed's smile faded into seriousness. "No. I'm not. I know about Mars. You will release Galen from whatever promises he gave you and he will not go with you."

Gideon let out a disbelieving grunt. "Boy you guys are … arrogant doesn't even begin to describe it. No. I need him. This is something I have to do, and he owes me."

Fed took a deep breath as he seated himself in the chair opposite Gideon.

He started tentatively, "I'm willing to … cut you a deal. I'm even going to go against my training and reveal my hand to you." Fed waved the deck at Gideon with a flourish.

"Lucky me," answered Gideon dryly.

Ignoring the slight, Fed plunged forward speaking rapidly, "You are right to value Galen. He is freakishly smart, and the most powerful technomage our Order has seen, since ... well probably since our founding. He's like ..." Fed flipped the top card off the deck revealing the Ace of Spades. He placed it on the desk between them and said, "The best trump card in some games, but for the game you want to play on Mars, you should settle for others. On the other hand, I am ..." Fed flipped the next card over, the King of Hearts. He placed it below the Ace of Spades. "And currently on Mars are ..." He flipped four more cards rapidly off the deck, the King, Queen, Jack and Two, all of Spades, fanning them out below the king of hearts.

"They've been looking into the facility you want into for a long time. Drop Galen and I'll make sure they will help you."

Gideon's first thought was 'Who the hell is this guy?' In the back of his mind a pragmatic voice, tiny and too much like his mothers, told him to run, find Galen and tell him everything. A much larger voice told him to push his luck and dig for as much information as possible. As always the second voice won.

Beginning his probes, Gideon pointed at the spades on the table and asked, "Why exactly would they listen to you?

Fed grinned wickedly, "Because I can charm anyone and … there is a good chance they will answer to me one day, and so want to stay on my good side."

The Captain was surprised by a direct answer from a technomage. He was a leader of some kind or at least he claimed to be. Even though, Gideon would not follow him into the dining hall, forget Mars.

"How am I suppose to 'drop Galen' exactly?"

Fed answered him as if Gideon's already agreed to his plans, "Do what I ask now, and it shouldn't be too hard. You already look like shit," He put up his hands defensively, "No offence Captain. God knows I've had my off days. I can make it appear worse, slowly, as we head to Earth. When we arrive you will tell Galen you don't need his help right away because you need a little vacation. I will have to teach you how to lie effectively to Galen, but that shouldn't take long. In the end he will come with me and while we are gone I suspect you will be able to conclude your 'business' on Mars."

Seemingly satisfied, Fed stopped speaking, looking at the Captain expectantly.

Unsatisfied, Gideon asked the obvious question, "Why the hell are you doing all this?"

Fed's answer was quick but his eyes flickered away uncertainly.

"Because I have to reach ..." He flipped the top card and placed the Queen of Hearts next to the King of Hearts. "A fellow technomage is trapped and I need Galen's help to rescue her."

A rescue was not at all what Gideon expected. It leeched away some of his contempt. Instead, he wondered at Fed's aggressive and overly informative approach. A sense of déjà-vu settled in as he thought about Galen's behavior before the Well of Forever. He decided to jump to the end game.

"And if I refuse?"

Fed steeped his fingers together and peered at the Captain, unblinking.

With a sudden menacing glint in his eyes Fed replied, "Plan B, for starters I'm taking you off my Christmas card list, then ... I will kill you."

**Excalibur Docking Bay – Federico's Ship December 23, 2269**

Oblivious to what is transpiring in Gideon's quarters, Galen remained distracted, immersed in Fed's sphere.

//8//

_(Fed's voice speaks first again.)_

_God damn, I should have realized just how out of my league I was with her, but I never was a quick study._

--- 30.11.2252

Strolling toward an open clearing filled with dozens of sleek black technomage ships, I strolled toward a small antique styled red flyer, with my hands shoved into my pockets.

Suddenly, I heard, "Hello Federico. Do you know who this belongs to?" said Gwynn stepping into view from behind the shadowy landing gear of the nearest technomage ship. She pointed at the flyer.

I shrieked, "Eek! Dammit Gwynn, you startled me."

Clearly, pleased with herself, she said, "Good. I ran its VIN through the Proximan police data net. It belongs to an 'Prince Ali Baba,' occupation: gentleman adventurer, age: 255, height: 9.99 meters. No further biographical information available."

Unblinking, she looked at me with curious expectation.

"It's mine. Ali is one of my daemons."

She looked at me in amused disbelief. "Really? I suppose it's more subtle than your jacket."

I looked down at the jacket. It was made of woven strings of orange and red beads on delicate thread.

Smiling falsely, I answered, "You're just jealous that you can't make something this awesome," A quick involuntary smile flashed across Gwynn's face as I continued, "The flyer was my birthday present, and if you'll excuse me I was bored and about to take her up to blow off some steam."

Suddenly sounding friendly, she sweetly asked, "I have a better idea, how about you lend it to me?"

"No way!" I exclaimed emphatically.

Frowning, she dropped the sweet tone, and coldly offered, "Fine. I'll trade you for it." She dangled a chain in front of my face with a small crystal sphere on it. She moved it about hypnotically.

Curious I asked, "What is it?"

"You know all those areas that are warded to keep out apprentices. This will get you in without setting off the alarm. Of course, once you're in you'll have to figure out how to not give yourself away."

"Where did you get this?"

"I promised I wouldn't say. The same way you are not going to," she said meanly driving a finger deep into my shoulder until I flinched.

I slapped her hand away, and said, "If it's so great, why don't you use it?"

Glancing about nervously, she loudly proclaimed, "Because I OBEY the Order's rules," Focusing back on me, her voice dropped to a whisper, "Unless I have good reason not to."

"What would you do with my flyer?"

She rolled her eyes.

"What do you think? I'm going to FLY IT. Nothing straining, just to your home town and back. Let me have it for lets say a week and you get a free trip to Xanadu."

"More like a free trip to trouble. Even if no one recognizes me, there's no way I'll pass for an initiate."

Gwynn smirked confidently. "Rhea is there right now, living la vie boheme with her deviate retinue. Trust me, if you can charm her or one of them, they'll insist you stay. They might even make you their mascot."

As an answer I handed her the ignition control card to the flyer and she hung the chain around my neck, then tucked it into my shirt. Dissatisfied, she buttoned the jacket to further hide the lump.

Not waiting to see her take-off, I turned and ran off through a maze of buildings until I reached an enormous tent-like structure. Its door was firmly covered with a heavy leather flap. Slipping inside, I was enveloped with noise; gentle music, talking and peels of laughter. Most of the illumination came from an enormous fireplace on the far side, with the occasional glowing sphere hovering here and there. In front of the fireplace stood a technomage surrounded by musical instruments, playing themselves. His eyes were closed, as his arms moved in time with the music, directing it while sweat gathered on his collar.

Scattered about the room were classic works of art: paintings, animated holograms and flanking the enormous fireplace, two statues of the same winged figure, Wierdan, the founder of this Technomage Order. One of the statues was her in a casual pose, wings folded, arms at her side, perfectly round, smooth skull, with her serenely staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. The other was incomplete. The figures wings were stretched outward fully, with her arms straining above her as if she were trying to escape. The rest was unfinished but being actively worked on by a lone technomage hovering near the face, chiseling at it occasionally. A bald technomage in a flowing black robe stood at the base pointing at a wing, saying something to the artist. The sculptor, ignoring his audience of one, continued working on the face.

The periphery of the room was divided into smaller sections by semi-transparent tapestries depicting animated scenes of technomage history. In between, were small low tables scattered well apart from each other. One section was concealed behind opaque curtains. All the visible tables had plenty of food and drink piled high on each while small groups of mages sat reclining on large pillows or low chairs. Some groups were conversing merrily, or playing games, while others appeared to be more intimately engaged. At the largest table closest to the center of everything, a group of Centauri were rowdily celebrating and drinking. One was lying face down on the table unmoving while across from him another Centauri was sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.

Slowly walking about, I scanned the room. Finally, I spotted Rhea, by the red scarf wound about her neck. She was seated at a small table in a far corner, and between the legs of a burly, light complected man leaning back against his chest. With her hair gone, it was difficult to recognize her as she was; wearing a very tight and lacey green shirt, half unbuttoned, and a heavy dark green woolen coat spread out like a blanket from her lap to her leather clad feet. The man's arms rested on the ground behind him, propping them both up. Laid out along his thigh was a saber clasped to a belt around his waist. His face was mostly hidden by a large white brace across the bridge of his nose. They were chatting with two other women at their table. Switching to study the other women, it was hard to not stare at the slight olive-skinned woman. She was conspicuously dressed in a colorful patchwork cape. On her head was an ornate purple cap with one enormous white feather stuck into it, sticking straight up, that bobbed around when she spoke. I forced myself to look at the other woman. Her eerily white skin contrasted perfectly with her short sleeveless, black timmed, gray robe. When she casually flexed her arms, I could see they were fiercely muscular. Otherwise, she sat perfectly straight backed and still on her knees without the benefit of a pillow under her.

Nervously, I approached close enough to overhear Rhea exclaiming, "Believe me, it is even more impressive up close, but a Centauri would be my last choice. I will grant you though, it might be fun trying to figure out where to put all of them."

The woman in the cap covered her eyes and screamed, "YUCK! Thanks a lot. I won't be able to get THAT picture out of my head all night!" She began to make disgusted gagging sounds to the laughs of the others.

The conversation halted as they finally noticed my standing around staring at them.

I blurted out at Rhea, "Hi! May I join you?"

She sat there openmouthed, stunned and silent.

"You know this whelp Lou?" asked the man pointing at me.

She regained her composure and stood, her coat falling away, revealing a short skirt. She spoke quickly, "Yes. He is that chef I mentioned and he really should not be here."

Rhea took a step but the man grabbed her wrist pulling her back.

In a deep melodic voice, he commanded, "Oh no you don't! I'm not letting you leave here unless it's with me. Besides at his age I would have given up a hand to get to stay here and watch."

"Yes, but I doubt it would have been your right hand," said the muscular women serenely. All the women burst out laughing that only grew louder when the woman in the cap made a distinctly repetitive up and down motion with her own right hand. The feather of her cap bobbed around in time with her hand.

He responded loudly over the snickering of the women, "Very funny! Ha. Ha. We four got into all sorts of trouble when we were his age. It's good for you."

"If memory serves, at his age the only thing you 'got into' was your imaginary girlfriend," mocked the muscular woman again.

The women roared with laughter yet again.

"Cruelty thy name is woman!" yelled the man at the muscular woman. But he did not seem angry, rather he grinned at her, winking flirtatiously.

Still standing, Rhea leaned toward me and whispered, "You must forgive what passes for wit among my friends."

"Ah yes, wit. I've heard of it," I whispered back at her, noticing that all her hair was gone. Her arms, eyebrows, every visible part was bare. After glancing at the others, I noticed they all appeared to be similarly effected.

"Oh let him stay, he's adorable!" exclaimed the woman in the cap smiling and staring at me boldly.

Rhea relented to her, "All right you can stay … until the smashing starts. I don't want to have to pick shards of glass out of your eyeballs."

Rhea sat down beside the man and motioned for me to sit, patting the pillow next to her.

Once I was seated on a large pillow comfortably, she started, "Everyone this is Federico, but he prefers Fed." Continuing, she stretched her hand toward the man, who was ignoring me and drinking from a mug so heavily that the contents spilled out the sides of his mouth.

"This is Roland, master of voice modulation and a budding master duelist. He is from the great planet of Mars. Stay away from him," she said in all seriousness. Next, she indicated to the muscular women. "This is To-mo-e, master of the many martial arts and disguise. She's from the revered, ancient city of Kyoto, on Earth. "

Tomoe bowed to me solemnly from her seated position, saying nothing.

Lastly, Rhea indicated to the slight women in the cap.

"Your benefactor is Optima. She hails from a fishing village and is easily distracted by shiny metal."

Optima's protest was immediate, "Hey! Stop calling Seattle a village!"

Rhea grinned wickedly.

Clearly, unrepentant, she answered, "Sorry, my mistake. She is our resident engineer and is currently working on an interesting if tiny engine design modification. It is expensive, extremely complex to implement and MIGHT make our ships go a half a percent faster."

Optima corrected her, "It's .68% faster, which over the course of a long trip adds up, and you're SOOOOO just delaying having to answer the question."

"What question?" I asked.

Rhea suddenly looked worried as she answered, "Perhaps, we should save our game for ..."

Roland cut her off, "What? Do you think Fed here would rather discuss Optima's mechanical pencil collection or our favorite breakfast teas? The game is 'Pick someone to shag', alien variation. The premise is if you were the last human in the galaxy which alien species would you consider 'having relations' with, and we've already established that celibacy and death are NOT options. I've freely admitted to finding Centauri females quite attractive. Optima would try to build herself a sentient android, so I suppose creating a new species is an option. That leaves you three. Except we already know what Tom will say."

In unison, Rhea, Optima and Roland said, "Minbari."

"How did you know?" asked Tomoe mocking surprise.

They all laughed, until Roland said, "Last chance Lou, or we assign you one by majority vote."

"Okay, I give in. My unrealistic first choice would be a Vorlon. Mainly because I really want to know what's inside one of those suits."

Quietly, they all turned to stare at me as one, with an expectation on their faces that what I said better amaze.

I swallowed hard. "Well, since I'm not familiar with the ... intricacies of alien anatomy, I think I'd clone myself."

They continued to stare at me in silence for several seconds.

Tomoe was the first to speak, "A simple yet clever solution. Interesting." Starting at me, evaluating.

"Brilliant! I can't believe I didn't think of that," piped up Optima.

Roland made a disgusted face as he said, "What are you guys nuts?! Isn't that incestuous and GROSS? What do you think?"

He nudged Rhea, interrupting her stroking her chin, deep in thought.

Calmly she shrugged and said, "Not necessarily. It does imply strong masturbatory tendencies. One premise Roland did not mention is that you are limited by current technologies. The cloning is feasible but you'd have to wait until your clone/clones reach sexual maturity. It is an acceptable long term solution but I think I will insist you have an interim ... option."

My eyes went wide for a second as I tried to make light of it all, "Wasn't this just a game? I think you're over thinking this."

"That is not possible! And this is more a thought experiment then a game," she said firmly, looking at me for another answer.

"Well... um... I like Optima's idea, though I'd probably have to modify her design a bit."

"Nope! The design only makes sense if you make it hermaphroditic. YA! I WIN!" celebrated Optima squirming and waving her hands in the air excitedly while I wondered at the logic of her response.

Roland threw his empty mug behind him carelessly. It smashed into pieces as he roared, "I can't believe the god damn robots take it!" He wagged a warning finger at Optima then me, continuing, "Mark my words, all those robot sex slaves of yours are going to lead to some sort of Robot War, which will rage across the galaxy killing everyone in their path and they'd win, OF COURSE, because they were designed by you Optima." He picked up and delicately kissed Optima's hand more then once.

Giggling, Optima playfully batted Roland's kisses away saying, "Oh Roland you're so sweet. You should welcome the new Robot Overlords. Just imagine how efficient everything will be." Optima looked pleased with herself.

They all laughed while I smiled nervously. Roland grabbed another mug off the table and handed it to me spilling some of the beer into my lap.

"Welcome to the party, kid."

Rhea intercepted my hand as I accepted the mug and warned me, "This is your only drink."

Carefully, I tasted it. "Not bad, I've never had ale before. Herazade calls it the urine of the gods and refuses to have any at home. I still prefer gin but this is more refreshing."

Rhea began to look worried again as I took another larger gulp.

Gesturing with his mug toward Tomoe, Roland said, "I was going through my music collection last night and found a piece that perfectly reminded me of you. I was going to sing it specially for you but now ... no way."

Her tone crisp and precise, Tomoe answered, "Have I insulted your honor so now you deny us all the pleasure of your singing?"

"Yup and I demand satisfaction!"

She glared challengingly at him. "I am not afraid of you. Do your best."

"You can start by coming over here and rubbing my back."

Cracking all her knuckles with one sure movement, she eagerly said, "I accept your challenge."

As she got up, he pulled off his jacket revealing only a thin gauzy undershirt. She kneeled behind him, seized him by the shoulders and began deeply massaging the heavy muscles of his broad back. In a small voice, Roland strained to say, "Ugh ... YA …arghhh … perfect."

Out of the blue Rhea turned and asked me, "What did you think of my presentation?"

I opened my mouth to speak but Roland cut in first, saying through gritted teeth, "Mom said it was stunningly unspeakable. I didn't pay too much attention. I was too busy staring at Gwynn's perfectly round ... AUF! HEY! You just bruised my kidney Tom… I was just going to say head. I swear."

Grinning dreamily, Optima added, "Oh ya, she's got some remarkably pert ... opinions."

In between grimacing in pain Roland managed to snicker with Optima.

Rhea corrected them, "Leave Gwynn alone you two."

Tomoe added assertively, "Agreed or I'm going to change your attitudes manually," She menaced them successfully with the calloused knuckles of one fist as she continued, "Getting back on topic. Your illusion was exactly what I expected from you. Unsubtle, unrestrained, a touch profane, and ... you revealed to much of yourself."

Rhea scoffed at that, "You liked it then?"

Tomoe looked amused. "It had a certain beauty, but I can't believe Coeus let you present that. … I assume he approved?"

"Of course, he told me whatever I did was fine with him."

Tomoe hesitated, before quietly whispering, "You should know … there was talk … some say you must have been on stims when you designed that program."

"Oh ya, totally! Mom said it was exactly what she expected from Dr. Feelgood's apprentice," threw out Roland carelessly.

Everything turned very quiet as everyone froze. Rhea looked down, hiding her reaction. Tomoe stopped her ministrations and angrily stared at Roland's back unsure of how to punish him.

Roland muttered under his breath, "Crap." He took her hand and tugged on it trying to get her to look at him. He pleaded with her, "That's just her way. You know she loves you and didn't mean anything bad by it. Hell, she's been calling me Castrati for fun."

Trying to defuse the situation, Optima enthusiastically offered her opinion, "I loved it! And um ... Kell said it was unique and complex and … um …. Aldous gave it a standing ovation. Only the Circle's opinion really matters. Right?"

Finally looking up, Rhea answered us all, "Aldous was mocking me and … I got carried away. Gwynn tried to warn me but I ignored her advice." She forcebly pulled her hand away from Roland, and emphasized at him, "You know I was asking Fed's opinion." Vaguely angry, she turned to me and said, "You need not spare my feelings. Coeus said failure is nothing to be ashamed of as long as it's spectacular."

Frozen in place, I could feel my heart rate increase and I began to sweat under her gaze.

"Um … actually Aldous liked it, he told me it was avant-garde. I agreed once I figured out what that meant. It's only problem was ... it was too complex. I had no idea what was going on half the time. BUT I loved the Narn ballet, very nice. I never realized it was traditionally done naked, and the end ... morphing Wierden into a little pink fairy, that was … ya kinda profane, but also beautifully hilarious. You meant it to be a joke, right?"

I bit my lower lip nervously. Her anger evaporated, and she looked at Roland smugly.

Out of nowhere, Optima burst out saying, "You are such a sweet little thing!" She pinched my cheek and continued, "Way to make her feel better, or are you just trying to butter her up so she'll sleep with you?"

The others all started chuckling while I did my best not to look at anyone.

Roland raised his mug toward me and proclaimed, "Either way well said young sir. Here's to Rhea's spectacular failure!" We heard a loud cracking noise, followed by Roland screaming, "AWW! MY SPINE! Stop! You win Tom."

"Ready to entertain us now?" Tomoe rose to stand triumphantly over him, her arms cocked on her hips.

"I'll sing if you come keep me company. I got an idea for some fun," he replied grinning at her.

He put out his hand and Tomoe yanked him up into a standing position. He grunted in pain as he stiffly rose. Side by side, they walked in step toward the fireplace.

"Ooh dancing opportunity. Count me in!"

Optima jumped up and followed behind them but immediately got distracted from her intent and started chatting excitedly with another table of mages, where everyone also had a feather like Optima's stuck to or out of some part of their attire.

The mage conducting his own musical concert stopped and made room for Roland. Accomponied by the self playing orchestra, he began to sing in a powerful voice that reverberated about the enclosure. Not quite dancing, Tomoe stood near him swaying in meditative appreciation. I ignored the music and instead turned to stare at Rhea in profile. She was happy, a far away expression on her face.

I leaned in asking the obvious question, "Are you and Roland together?"

Without taking her attention away from the singing she said, "I see you are the nosey, prying sort."

Putting up my hands defensively, I made my excuse, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep. It's just … I'm curious, you two seem um … close, but then he's all flirty with Optima and Tomoe. "

At that, she gave me an angry look, but said nothing and deliberately ignored me. Disappointed, I tried another question, "Why did you tell me to stay from him?"

Disconcerted, she seemed to answer without thought, "He has fought three duels in the days since we recovered from our initiation. Such excesses can be dangerous to more then just the participants."

"You don't approve of his behavior?" I asked innocently.

The angry look returned and she went back to ignoring me. Sighing quietly, I looked down focusing on my mug and finished my drink in one large gulp. Placing the empty mug on the table, I grabbed for a random pitcher. She intercepted my arm, moving all pitchers well away from me without a word.

Before she let go, I quickly asked, "This is G'Quan's Lament in D minor right?"

Surprised she said, "I didn't think you were the sort who enjoyed Narn opera."

"I don't and by the looks of it the Centauri are hating it." I pointed over at the table of formerly celebrating Centauri technomages. The ones that were not glaring at Roland were angrily speaking among themselves. I continued, "But I've learned to appreciate it. Herazade only listens to it when she's in a good mood. I can ask for anything and she always says yes. That's how I got my pony. I named him Sparky."

She let out a slight laugh at that. "Really? I don't recall seeing any ponies trotting around your home."

"Ya, that's a sad story. He broke his leg and we had to put him down. But, let me tell you, we feasted like kings!"

Playing along, she asked with a growing grin on her face, "Really? Did you have a favorite cut?"

"I loved all of him beyond death. Pony steaks, pony ribs, pony roast. But a pony like that, you don't want to eat all at once. I made a smoker so I could make pony sausages, pony bacon, pony ham..."

Every time I said pony she laughed a little harder. Until she doubled over clutching her middle, and shrieked happily, "You are a horror!"

Acting innocent, I corrected her, "A horror? Me? I hope not. Horrifically funny maybe."

She seemed to have forgotten to ignore me and asked, "Wait, wasn't today your birthday?"

Shaking my head yes, I pointed around the room, "I suppose that's why I wanted a little adventure."

She fumbled with her green coat till she found one particular pocket and a palm sized brown box contained within. Holding up the box between us, she placed her hand dramatically along the top, palm up. A firey swirl of script numbers and letters formed above her hand. The mass drifted down into her palm. Flipping her hand over quickly, she slapped the top of the box. When she pulled her hand away with a flourish, she revealed a glowing 16 surrounded by the letters, 'R I P S P A R K Y.'

"It's not much but it's the best I can do on no notice." She handed it to me.

Awkwardly, I took the box. "Thank you."

Immediately, I opened it in front of her and it was mostly empty except for three small gold foil wrapped pouches.

"What is it?"

"Every woman's weakness and if you don't love them you had better keep it to yourself lest my estimation of your palate fall immeasurably. How was your 'special' day?"

I shrugged. "We had the obligatory party with the other apprentices. There was cake. The other masters stood around scowling, making sure no one had too much fun. … Afterwards, Herazade took me for a high altitude jump which was exhilarating awesome, and Aldous gave me his old flyer, so I can skip out of here if I want. Perhaps ummm … I can take you flying some time. The dead ocean is pretty shiny this time of year," I offered nonchalantly.

A harsh belittling laugh erupted out of her before she stopped and controlled herself.

Pursing her lips together, she looked annoyed. Correcting herself, she softly said, "That was cruel. ... Forgive me?"

With a smile, I immediately said, "Always."

Putting a gentle hand on my arm, she leaned in close to say, "It was very nice of you to offer, but that is not a good idea."

All through the conversation the singing had been steadily growing louder. At the moment she stopped speaking, Roland bellowed out a sustained high note. A glass pitcher on the table began to dance about, then cracked and finally spilled its contents.

I yelled over the high-pitched noise, "Wow, I've never heard a man sing soprano like this before!"

I clamped my hands over my ears and screamed when all the sound disappeared replaced by a pain ripping through my head. Looking scared Rhea was already kneeling in front of me with her lips moving.

I blurted out, "Pain! Lots of Pain!"

Closing her eyes, she covered my ears with her hands and I felt the skin around her hands tingle until my hearing came back with a pop.

Still worried, she asked, "Can you hear me?" I shook my head yes and tried to smile but she declared, "That's enough for one night I believe. We are leaving."

A few technomages hurried for the exit, but most seemed to be settling in, anticipating further entertainment. The technomage who had been directing the musical instruments, stopped and scurried away from Roland. The moment his back was turned, the orchestra of self-playing instruments vanished. The sculptor by the fireplace continued chiseling, completely inured or oblivious to the commotion. Rhea stood and began putting on her coat. Its length concealed her body down to the floor and once she pulled up her collar and hood, it hid her face in shadows.

We both turned when a lone Centauri technomage shouted across the enclosure pointing a short golden sword at Roland, "Your 'lesson' begins now initiate."

A Narn technomage in a far corner rose and yelled back, "How dare you interrupt the only decent rendition of G'Quan's Lament I've heard come out of a human's throat!"

From the table of Centauri, a wave of mugs, plates, and bottles flew through the air straight at Roland, but Tomoe stepped in their way. With a sure flick of her hand, Tomoe redirected them away in random directions. Rhea spread out her coat to block the ones heading at us. They smashed into an invisible barrier just in front of her scattering broken glass and pottery about her feet. A group of five Centauri, lead by the one with the sword, advanced on Roland. One of them had a broken bottle, one with what appeared to be a table leg, and the remaining two with short black staffs. With his saber drawn and a manic grin on his face, Roland stretched out his arms as if inviting an embrace. He continued to sing. Standing next to him, motionless, Tomoe stared at the approaching hoard. All indignant rage, the Narn technomage stomped from behind his table and toward the back of the advancing Centauri group. No one esle moved to join or stop them.

Rhea grabbed my arm and with considerable strength dragged me to my feet.

Gawking at what was about to happen, I said, "They're out numbered. We should stay and help them."

"Ha! You should be worried for the Centauri."

With a mighty leap, the lead Centauri, his sword in hand, flew into the air looking to use Roland to break his fall. Roland caught the Centauri and collapsed backwards, placing his foot into the middle of the Centauri's chest and flipped him ass over head into the fireplace. All the while Roland kept on singing. Tomoe intercepted the rest of the group. They unleashed a flurry of strikes at her, but with a sheathed dagger held along her forearm, she blocked every one, looking increasingly bored. Then the Narn technomage entered the fray by grabbing the Centauri, who had levitated into the air to get around Tomoe, by his ankles and slammed him to the ground. The Centauri who had been thrown into the fireplace came stumbling out, unburned but enraged. He raised a hand. A giant fireball began to form in it.

As we reached the exit at that instant, I heard Roland stop singing long enough to yell, "Hey! Where are you going?! I thought we're going to pop all his cherries tonight!" Roland leaned to the right as a fireball streaked through the area his head had just been. It sailed the length of the room and hit a tapestry sending it up in flames with a 'whoosh.' Appreciative 'oohs' and clapping issued from some of audience. No one moved to put out the flames. That was the last I saw as I was yanked out the door.

In the perfect quiet and calm of outside, I asked, "What did he mean by all?"

Before she could answer, two figures clad completely in black landed nearby. They ignored us and silently rushed toward the door we had just exited.

From inside her hood, Rhea answered, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Please forget it."

"I didn't mean to take you away from your friends. I'll be fine, you should go back and help."

"I will return to help clean up the mess. But, I don't want you getting 'lost.' Show the way."

She pointed an aggressive hand ahead of her. I began to walk away from the door silently and she fell in step with me.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Rhea asked, "What was what like?"

"The actual initiation. Getting your implants. No one will tell me."

"AH. I am not supposed to say anything. It is one of our mysteries."

"Ya, that's what everyone says but I always thought the mysteries and secrets should be for outsiders not each other. That makes more sense to me."

I thought I heard her sigh before her eager answer, "I don't disagree. I should not say, but... What was it like? It was pain … excruciating, unbearable pain … I passed out for most of it. So in a way it felt quick. I really don't understand why they don't use some sort of analgesic."

I stopped walking to say, "Okay, now I wish I hadn't asked."

Stopping as well, Rhea spoke with sympathy, "Roland said he hardly noticed it but he is always posturing like that. Either way, at least we only have to go through it once."

We both began again and were silent until I shyly asked, "Why did Roland call you Lou?"

"Because he is careless."

"Is Lou your real name?"

Annoyed, she warned, "That is not a question you ask any technomage. Ever."

"Sorry it's just... I envy your having close friends within the Order. The last convocation was my first so I don't really have that ... yet."

She actually snorted in disgust. "We didn't become friends by choice. At first we got along like cats in a bag."

"I don't understand."

"A project of my fathers. We were ... deliberately socialized."

Content with her answer she stopped speaking. I had to goad her to continue. "What happened?"

Her words conveyed her rueful smile. "My father is a healer who specializes in all aspects of the mind, from basic neural biology, to pyschology. He wanted to see what would happen if members of a cohort were routinely and purposely socialized from a young age in a controlled environment. A few other masters found it … intriguing and agreed to it. Coeus theorized it would improve our skills, solidarity, self-control, that sort of thing. But the only things we excelled at were Karaoke and putting on saucey puppet shows. Eventually, the Circle disapproved and put an end to it years ago."

"Wow, I can't believe your father would experiment on you like that."

Shrugging, she responded coolly, "It was benign especially compared to some of the development projects I've read."

I stopped again, and she halted in response.

Nervously I said, "I like this... talking to you. You answer my stupid questions. May I ... talk to you again? I mean if I want advice or to just say hello."

Sighing again from inside her hood, when she spoke she sounded more amused then anything. "You mean a conventional digital messages? What makes you think I use them like some sort of prol?"

Smiling I stated confidentally, "Let's make it a bet. I got access to the best tracking daemons the Order has. If I can track you down, you have to answer."

"If you can not?"

"Name your price."

She was silent for a long time. I began to shift my weight about nervously until she spoke, "If you can find me and if your message is appropriate, I will answer. If not, I expect a case of that limoncello of yours to arrive by next Christmas."

I stuck out my hand before she was done speaking, answering, "Done."

She shook it easily.

"We're here," I said pointing at a nearby structure.

Sounding disturbed, she said "You didn't tell me you were staying with your master."

"Don't worry. She told me she would be out for the night."

She pointed at the glowing rune on the door. "That means she is within."

Dragging me along behind her, we swiftly walked in to find a very displeased Herazade standing in the middle of the room.

Without removing her hood, Rhea said assuredly, "I am returning your wayward apprentice. He was … lost. I decided to bring him to you before he wound up in a ditch, missing a kidney. Now I should go," She bowed slowly, adding, "… kidneys don't harvest themselves."

Herazade held out her hand palm up. A small image of Rhea standing next to me saying, 'All right you can stay.' Then the image rapidly transformed into one of Roland yelling, 'I thought we were going to pop all his cherries tonight!' With a withering stare, she closed her hand before the images fully disappeared.

While her hood concealed her reaction, Rhea's voice was unphased as she spoke, "I believe in circumstances such as this it is customary to beg for mercy. I will only ask that you consider that perhaps our judgment was impaired by our … celebrations."

"Stop It!" I yelled forcefully. Both turned toward me, with Herazade looking shocked and the other still hidden in her hood. "Sorry. I um … didn't mean to yell that. What I meant was … I ... sorta caused this. Whatever punishment there is should probably fall on me."

Looking pleased, Herazade said, "Very well. … Since I can not trust you to follow my instructions when you are alone, your punishment will be that I will take you home in the morning. You will stay there for the next week, studying your least favorite subjects, starting with discrete mathematics I think. Go to bed."

She pointed at a hall leading away from the door. But I remained rooted to the spot, demanding, "No. I want to know what will happen to her."

We both looked sideways at Rhea, who just stood perfectly motionless, well hidden within her coat.

Herazade crisply ordered, "Nothing. I was about to thank her for returning you intact. Now go before I have to resort to getting my switch!"

I bowed deeply to both and said, "Good night."

Walking away down the hall, I slipped into a small alcove-like bedroom that only had enough room for a cot, a small littered desk and a large open chest.

I stood near the door, and picked their conversation mid-sentence.

Rhea was speaking, "... Should be fine. If you are worried you should test his hearing."

"No. I am more worried about ... he is very impressionable, especially since he's had very little 'experience' with woman, well not non-simulated ones anyway ..."

Interrupting her, Rhea indignantly said, "Are you implying that I am toying with him?! Because I have done nothing to lead him on. He came to me."

"No you misunderstood. I approve of your influence."

Rhea hurriedly answered, "Oh ... May I go then?" She finished sharply.

"No, about Roland..."

Herazade began to speak rapidly but not in English.

"Damn." I stopped listening and went over to the chest. I rummaged about in it until I found a terminal, which began to activate itself right away. Back by the door, I went back to listening but not understanding their conversation. They went back and forth for a while mentioning Roland's name often. I looked at the terminal and shook it trying to hurry it along.

"Come on, start up already," I whispered. It chimed in response, finally fully active and I continued out loud, "Load spoken language translation program. To english from …" I paused unsure what to say, "Sample audio clip now," I stuck the terminal in the hall but at that moment they went silent.

After a while, Rhea simply said, "Yes."

"Bon. I'm sure Coeus has something in his pharmacy that can help. He always does."

I cursed again and threw the terminal away onto the cot.

Sounding impatient, Rhea said, "If that is all?"

"No … I am grateful to you for watching over Fed. You saved me the embarrassment of having to fetch him myself. Your ... father is very proud of you. He has cause to be. It's been a while since we've had a meaningful conversation. I would like to change that. Perhaps tomorrow after the midday lectures, you can come back?"

"A while? Technically, it has been nearly a decade. My answer to your invitation is no. Good evening."

"Wait. Stop. Why wouldn't... "

Rhea interrupted her, "I'm not interested in currying your favor."

"I don't understand. This is not about favor. I would like..."

She was cut off again by Rhea practically yelling, "You have had nothing to say to me since you stopped 'visiting' Coeus! Not even after Themis died, when it would have been... No, never mind. I am not sure what is possessing you to care after all this time but I'm not interested in further disappointment."

Herazade faltered and stammered the beginning of her response, "I … I ... had no idea you felt that way. Then I insist we speak." Silence. She continued, "If you will not come to me, I will go to you. ... If it helps I can make my hot chocolate. I believe you used to call it frighteningly thick."

"Merde. At least you remembered that much. Add coffee and I will be here."

"Done, now I believe the kidneys are calling to you."

When I heard her leave, I walked back toward the entrance. Herazade was staring at the door, absentmindedly frowning while putting on a blue cloak.

I said at her back, "She sounded pissed. What are you going to say to her?"

She spun around in surprise, her frown deepening.

"Listening in again? I thought I told you that was rude?!"

I shrugged and countered, "Isn't threatening to beat someone with a switch worse?"

Her frown turned into a smile, "Never underestimate the value of saving face."

I asked, "Are you really going to send me home in the morning?"

"Yes."

Whining, I pleaded with her, "Oh come on! I'm not allowed to have real friends outside of the Order, and the ones I have, I only get to see once every three years. And now you're dumping me at home, alone. I can't stand being alone! Let me stay, please!"

Annoyed, she grabbed a short black metal staff that had been leaning against the wall by the door, "That is why it is the perfect punishment. Do you have any idea how many apprentices the Order used to be accidentally killed or worse?!"

I sarcastically answered, "12?" and crossed my arms, pouting.

Pointing her staff at me, she sternly lectured, "Would like to know why Mescal always wears a mask?! Or which of our order have artificial limbs?! If anything would have happened to you … I would have been severely inconvienced!" She slammed her staff into the ground for emphasis, sending tendrils of blue electrical arcs across the floor, through me, causing my hair to stand on end, as they climbed up the walls and disappearing back into the top of her staff.

Calming down, she let out an audible sigh and grabbed me by the shoulder shaking me slightly as she pleadingly said, "I don't say this enough to you. ... I love you as if you were my own son ... But that has led me down this merry path of indulging you and tolerating behavior I should not. Your actions affect not just yourself but also me. Please, next time, think before you do."

Sheepishly, I embarrassingly apologized, "Sorry, you're right. I wasn't thinking."

Satisfied, she responded, "Obviously. As for how you managed to get into Xanadu." With one finger she found and removed the chain from around my neck. She examined it carefully before slipping it into the folds of her clothing. "Beautiful workmanship, but not worth your flyer. You should have held out for magic beans." We both laughed at her joking at my expense. She continued, "I'll make sure you get your flyer back from Gwynn."

"Will Gwynn get in trouble?"

"I doubt it. I informed Coeus, but he was unconcerned, as always. He thinks she has a right to complete freedom. I am considered an over-indulgent master by most but he surpasses me in this by light years." She finished more bitterly complaining then explaining.

Perplexed I asked, "Are we still talking about Gwynn?" She waved a dismissive hand but stayed silent lost in thought.

I continued, "If you knew what I was doing why didn't you come after me?"

"I would have, had you not sought out Rhea. She behaves much like her father did at her age. I trust him, and so I trust her." She paused at length debating about whether to continue, "I will not interfere with you seeking her out…"

Excitedly, I interrupted her, "Good! What do you think I should do get on her good side?"

She let out a bitter laugh as she spoke, "Stop acting like a besotted fool. Look ... do yourself a favor, guard your heart." She wagged a warning finger at me, "I do not want a repeat of last weeks 'incident.' This is your only warning. Now I need to focus on my lecture. Good night Fed."

She began to leave.

"Wait! I wanted to ask .... What was all that about Roland?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself about."

"You don't seriously think he would have hurt me."

Looking anxiously at the door, she sighed. "No, I just suggested she have a little chat with him. And you need to stay here for your protection. I am not on shall we say friendly terms with some of our fellow mages. They might choose to take their revenge upon me through you."

"Oh come on. That sounds paranoid."

Sounding absolutely certain of herself, she responded, "It's not whether you're paranoid but rather if you're paranoid ENOUGH! When you are of age in three years, sorry make that two, I will give you more latitude in pursuing the pleasures of the mind and body, but until then your pursuit must remain theoretical … for your own good. Now, if I hurry I might just make my own lecture... Oh, I almost forgot."

Instead of leaving she swiftly walked toward the only bare wall in the room. As she moved, the entire wall sprang to life with the image of a columned temple.

"Trajan!" she commanded.

A computer generated holo-daemon, in the form of a bare-footed old man, ran in from the edge of the temple. He was dressed in an ancient Roman styled senatorial toga and on his chest Herazade's rune of progress glowed brightly in red.

Bowing and simpering, it asked, "How may I serve Augusta?"

"Activate the observation network. Load lecture hall node."

Puzzled, I asked, "Aldous gave you access to his monitoring probes?"

She shook her head no, answering, "I like to think of it as a game we play." The image on the terminal switched to the interior of a large domed room with a dozen mages sitting about quietly talking. "It would please me if you watched my lecture."

"Sure. Which title did you decide on?"

"New Ship Design Elements and Current Assembly Management."

"Wow, that sounds ... incredibly long and boring."

She pulled herself upright, and indignantly defended it, "Yes well, it is necessary… the one after it will be more to your taste, 'The Current Disposition of the Human Crime Syndicates.'"

"Sounds way more interesting."

"I think so as well, but if you do not then perhaps you can find something else to amuse yourself."

She turned to me with an amused glint in her eye but left without another word. An understanding smile flashed across my face.

"Trajan?"

The holo-daemon strolled out looking relaxed.

It derisively spoke, "Ahh, young 'Augustus.' Do you realize you are over two weeks behind in your mathematics studies? Augusta is most displeased. Would you like a lesson on the Mandelbrot Set while we wait?"

"Later. Record her lecture directly into my personal directory. Then bring up a list of available observation nodes I can switch to."

"I do not believe Augusta would approve of that."

"Did she forbid you?"

Looking confused, Trajan said suspiciously, "No."

"Then do as I say."

I pulled out a ball from my jacket pocket and began squeezing it anxiously. A list of names and accompanying symbols appeared superimposed on the lecture hall image.

"Switch to the one marked Xanadu."

I pulled over a chair and dropped into it, getting comfortable. Immediately, the image changed to the location I was just in but everything seemed perfectly peaceful again. The Centauri were back to their rowdy celebrations. Roland was singing again but this time something cheerfully festive.

_Merry Christmas from Chiron Beta Prime_

_Where we're working in a mine_

_For our robot overlords_

_Did I say "overlords"? I meant "protectors"__ **_

Many mages danced wildly about him, including Optima. She was in the middle, executing an outrageous serious of acrobatic maneuvers to the cheers of those with feathers stuck to themselves. Fantastical creatures, fairies, demons, the odd dragon, flittered about the room weaving glittering patterns among the dancers.

"Magnify this area. Focus sound on just the table." I pointed to the table where Tomoe was sitting alone, eating, stoically staring at the writhing mass of movement. Rhea did not reappear. I waited, but no one came. Getting bored, I threw the ball in my hand at the wall of images, caught it and threw it again until Tomoe finished eating and appeared to close her eyes, mediating.

In response, I stopped throwing my ball and sleepily stared at the wall. Just before I drifted off asleep, Rhea appeared, and agitatedly tore off her coat. She collapsed on the pillow next to Tomoe.

Tomoe's eyes sprung open as she enquired neutrally, "How did the veal delivery go, Mrs. Robinson?"

Rhea pointed an angry finger at her and yelled, "No! You are not allowed to start. Gwynn's been trying my patience about him for days."

"With her tongue I can imagine. Anything choice?"

"You have no idea. She's like this fountain of alliterative nicknames ... 'little latin lover,' 'gaudy gastronomic gaucho,' 'tackily tasty torero.' 'Pepito picante' is my personal favorite." Rhea's demeanor broke into gentle laughter, "Optima is right. He is impossibly adorable … and funny as hell. I can't seem to not enjoy his company even when I REALLY try." She threw up her arms in frustration.

Stopping my spying, I jumped up from my seat pumping my fists in the air and yelling, "YES!" and danced in place for a while before sitting back down. Eagerly, I pulled out her gift box and spilled the three small foil packages on my lap. Carefully I opened one and eased its contents into my hand. A perfect round chocolate truffle landed in my palm and then went immediately into my mouth, leaving a dusting of chocolate residue in my palm. After biting down I moaned with pleasure muttering, "Oh wow!" Quickly, I ripped open the other two pouches and devoured their contents.

With my mouth full of chocolate I coarsely said, "Trajan, close connection. Oh and Trajan I need you to …" I trail off in thought. The holo-daemon walked out and stood glaring at me in disgust. With arms on its hips, it demanded, "You know I'm busy. What do you want?"

"No need to get all snappish. Delete this entire session and all the logs you've been keeping to rat me out to Hera the moment you think I'm not watching."

It looked annoyed as the images disappeared, leaving behind an empty wall.

Happily, I looked at my right hand and said, "Your days of being my only company are numbered."

EOF

---

Galen came back to himself. He remembered why he preferred to avoid technomage parties. They always started as manic affairs, filled with art, music, information and intense camaraderie, but they typically de-evloved into fights or drunken debauchery, usually both. As for Rhea, he remembered her presentation. Elric had insisted he watched all presentations. No doubt to help him prepare for his own initiation. Hers was infamous, in his mind anyway, because it was the only one Elric had ever commented on.

_A young Galen sat next to Elric in an amphitheater fashioned of ancient looking gray stone. Pillars rose into the sky, seemingly challenging it to fall. The stage, also made of stone, was bare except for a woman in a long green coat. She stared downward as she rushed off to sit by a middle-aged man, who hugged her with a smile betraying his deep well of pride. A few in the audience clapped enthusiastically, one even standing up as he did, but most were silently disapproving or murmuring discontentantly._

_The lone figure strode onto the stage clapping with a sort of diplomatic restraint. He stopped in the middle of the stage. _

_He addressed the audience with an old authority. "Yes, thank you. That was … complex and … unique. And now, will the next initiate please step forward?"_

_Galen looked at Elric, who had been silently sitting next to him, his brow furrowed with what Galen always assumed was disapproval. _

_Gravely, Elric commanded, "That is an example of what NOT to do. Keep this in mind when your time comes. Do you understand why?" Elric studied him._

_Galen's judgment was sure and quick, "It was lewd and it insulted Wierdan. Why didn't Kell denounce it?"_

_Elric's brow contracted further. "No. You do not understand." He stopped for a few beats to let his disapproval sink into the shocked and mortified Galen. He continued, "It was unique and a well constructed illusion but it failed and violated our Code, specifically Secrecy. Her presentation revealed too much of herself. And in revealing her secrets, she has made herself vulnerable to everyone in this arena. This was foolish. While a few were deserving of such trust, most were not and all she did was feed their prejudice. How does this apply to you?"_

_Desperately, Galen's mind raced trying to find the answer Elric sought. He did not want to let him down a second time. _

_Swallowing hard, Galen spoke without much certainty, "I should … be careful with how I reveal myself?"_

_Elric gave him relief by saying, "Always think first of your audience. Study them, then only reveal what you must."_

_Galen slowly nodded in agreement unsure if his answer_ _had been correct. Elric turned to watch the next presentation. Galen spent the rest of his time lost in the lesson he had learned._

Yes, Galen took that lesson very much to heart, too much so. He took it to its logical extreme and chose to never reveal his heart to anyone, even those he loved and trusted. At least not before it was too late. But that was not what Elric had meant. The lesson was not, never reveal yourself, but rather only reveal yourself to those who deserve your trust.

For the thousandth time, regret filled his heart. Regret that he never told Isabel how deep his love actually went. His intellect told him that he showed her with his actions and she knew, but his heart would not forgive him. And now who was there to love? No one. His heart was quick to correct him with a whisper, 'Dureena.' With sadness, he wondered if in ten years he'd be sitting on some other starship regretting her. But, the universe, no doubt, would have some sick fate in store for her if he chose to love and trust her. No, with sad certainty, Galen decided. It was best to live the life he had chosen only one way … alone. Shaking his head to clear it of useless dreams, he returned his focus on Fed's memory sphere.

*First line from a poem by Walt Whitman about the death of Abraham Lincoln

**Lyrics from Jonathan Coulton's excellent Christmas ballad- "Chiron Beta Prime" Distributed under the creative commons license.


End file.
